upon dragon wings
by lunerwerewolf
Summary: Conrad is having strange dreams, Yuri has discovered something about earth that's rather surprising. how will Temeaire react when Yuri drags Conrart along on a school trip.
1. Chapter 1

_The wind rushed around him, blowing through his hair as he sat upon the broad black back of a sleekly sinuous dragon. He gazed out at the beautifully rising white cliffs below them as they swept past ridding on the thermals, carried by great black wings with their beautiful blue markings. The dragon turned his head and looked at him affection shining in the deep blue pools of his eyes. "Laurence," the great Dragon asked over his shoulder, "What makes the cliffs of Dover white?"_

"_I must admit I don't know my dear," he answered in a voice that was not truly his own. Looking down, he studied the harness that held him securely to Temeraire's back. "Perhaps I can find us a book on the subject." He added after a moment, saddened by the fact that he could not answer his friend's question. _

Conrad sat up in bed shaking off the effects of the dream, wondering just where Dover was and why in the hell the cliffs where white, and why he even knew about them when they defiantly did not exist on his world.

With a sigh he slipped out of bed, careful not to wake his sleeping lover. He couldn't help smiling as his best friend curled up more tightly, cocooning himself in the blankets, so that all that could be seen of him was his bright orange hair. Temmy, the beautiful black silk, stuffed dragon his mother had given him almost a century ago on his 30th birthday, sat in its usual place of honor, on the headboard, surveying the room out of sapphire eyes. The sapphires that made up the markings on his wings sparkling, in the nearly nonexistent moon light – it was odd how regal the little stuffed animal looked with its soft almost gossamer frill, and the thin tendrils hanging from its muzzle like a mustache. After losing his father, he'd been very lonely, and his little brother's sudden decision that he was not worth his time since he was half-human hadn't helped – so his mother had had an artisan create a stuffed version of 'his imaginary friend.' Following his every detail of the dragon down to the shade of his eyes, at the time he'd described the dragon so unlike the ones on his world with the certainty of a boy the human equivalent of 8. Now many years later, he wondered at his continuing dreams – after all at 135 he was now the human equivalent of 19 nearly 20.

Regardless he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. Not now after dreaming of Temmy – the best he could do with the dragon's name when he was younger - he knew that much from long years of experience.

Pulling on his slippers he padded silently out of the room ignoring the fact that he was currently wearing nothing but his silk sleeping pants. He made his way almost silently through the dark halls of covenant castle, until at last he came to his office.

Sighing he lit the lamps and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment paper, gathered his drawing pens and began to sketch the vision from his dream, paying particular attention to every detail he could recall of the oddly familiar dragon.

He set the sheet aside so that it could dry and was just about to take a few moments to look at the drawer full of other sketches he'd made over the 130 years he'd been having these dreams when Yozak's voice drew his attention.

"That's Temair, isn't it" the man asked quietly, looking over his shoulder at the artwork on his desk.

"_Temeraire," he corrected absently, the strange word rolling oddly of his tongue _

"you dreamed of him again didn't you?" Yozak asked after a moment's silence.

Conrart flushed to the roots of his hair, he was too old to be having such dreams and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that Temeraire was out there somewhere waiting for him. Quietly he admitted as much to Yozak.

His friend nodded absently before replying, "we have searched the reserve many, many times looking for a dragon that looks even remotely like that, nearly got eaten a few times to. Conrad I think it's time you face it, even if he did exist at one time, he's not here now."

Conrad looked up at him quietly for a second, "no," he replied quietly, "they sent him to the Pen y Fan breeding grounds after he and Laurence committed treason against Brittan." Conrad's eyes widened when he realized exactly what he'd just said. Where in the hell had that bit of intelligence came from?

"Where in the name of the Great One is the Pen y Fan breeding grounds. What the hell is Britten? Who is Laurence – and why do you even know any of this?" Yozak asked a little sharply.

"I don't know," Conrad replied quietly. "I really don't know."

Yozak gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, "there's nothing we can do about it right now, Come back to bed and I will help you forget."

Sighing, and casting one last look at the drawing on his desk he rose to his feet and followed his best friend from the room, blowing out the lights as they left.

One thing was for sure, he was going to find out the answers to Yozak's question, and then he was going to find out why those cliffs where white, and maybe one day he would have the chance to answer the great dragon's question. After all who was he not to answer the questions of a dragon that could actually talk?

~~~***~~~

A.N ok it's short I know, anyone think they know what's going on? This will be a short story, please read and review.


	2. Chapter 2

Temeraire sighed and curled up a little tighter on his ledge. They'd just been informed that some international government that oversaw the relationship between all different governments, had decided to release the fact that Dragon's where more then a myth to the general population who had been kept in the dark for about that for more than a century. Apparently it was a way to boost the global economy, the dragon preserves – which had once been the breeding grounds – where being opened to the public as a sort of public attraction.

He snorted, they were to be used like horses, to give out dragon rides to paying customers, the smaller dragons to give out individual rides and the larger ones to ferry the 'park patrons' across the park in special harnesses, or worse to perform feats of acrobatics with a horde of people strapped to their backs in newly made harnesses, while other dragons went about in replicas of the fighting harnesses used during the various historical wars.

They were even going to have them flying in formation – like their new flying war carriages. Apparently they were called Jets.

It was degrading.

He was not a horse who would follow orders without question. He missed Laurence, but his much loved Captain was long dead, and he'd stayed in Australia only as long as the man had lived. Then he'd gone feral, despite the fact that they'd given him to another captain before Laurence had even died. Three years, two months, and 16 days before Laurence had passed away from old age. He'd served the man against his will for that long –under the threat of them ending the life of his helpless aged and infirmed captain. Years of abuse taken, after their betrayal of Brittan, by bringing the cure to the Dragon plague to the French during Bonaparte's rule, had degraded Laurence's health. Hours of labor in the scorching sun with little food and heavily rationed water, had taken their toll. Even in Australia – a prison colony – his beloved Captain had not been able to escape the brand of trader, and he'd been treated harshly. The worst part was that after a time Laurence had begun to believe the horrible things they said to him, and had slowly stopped fighting it.

Laurence had spent every night of his life curled up against Temeraire for warmth, sheltered from the rains by his great wings. Temeraire had hunted to feed them both properly, after he noticed his captain's distressing lack of weight and seen with alarm the tiny portion of slop Laurence was being given to eat.

He'd even sacrificed having his food cooked so that Laurence could shelter under his wing and cook – what he considered to be - a small portion of his kills so that the human could actually eat them. Laurence had put on weight but he had never fully recovered from the harsh treatment, and for years Temeraire had blamed himself for not noticing his Captain's plight sooner.

In the end they'd moved, an aged and sickly Laurence into the barracks after he'd put up an extreme fuss on his Captain's behalf. The price of that small accommodation had been his agreement to take another captain. At first the man had simply neglected the comforts that Laurence had taken such pains to ensure he was afforded. So he'd tried to get the Captain changed, and been issued the ultimate ultimatum – his cooperation for Laurence's life.

Every night he'd flown to the window of the barrack room that housed his at the time 80 year old Captain and settled himself outside of it – refusing to make a fuss over the hard buckles of his now never removed harness digging into his scales or the fact that he now had to lick himself clean like a cat rather then ever having a proper bath or even a helping hand at cleaning the gore from his muzzle after he ate, but rather spent a great deal of time assuring his arthritic captain that he was well, and carefully looked after.

He'd often slipped part of his tail through the window and allowed one arthritic hand to curve lightly around the very tip. He remembered long ago when Laurence had quite been able to carry him, now the only part of his body small enough for Laurence to put a hand around where his tendrils and the tip of his tail.

Laurence had died like that, muttering to himself about the day he'd been hatched and holding onto his tail like a small child with a teddy bear.

One moment he had been there the next he'd been gone.

Temeraire had waited only long enough to discover the plans to simply 'dump the trader's body into a river and let the Crocodiles have him' before making his decision. He'd already decided that Captain Collins was not going to be his captain now that Laurence was no longer there for them to threaten but that bit of information was more then he could bear. That morning just before they were to remove Laurence's body from the small private room in the barracks he'd occupied for the last three years, Temeraire put up a mild fuss refusing to follow Collins' directions. It wasn't difficult he outweighed the man by several tons after all.

Once they'd brought out Laurence's body he'd dived at them to a litany of Collins' horrified and enraged shouts. The four men carrying his body down to the river had scattered, leaving Temeraire to carefully, gently and almost reverently gather the remains of his beloved captain in his claws. Besides Laurence's body he'd taken the sword he'd given the man, the breastplate, and the little gold chain Laurence had given to him and his talon sheaths with him as he'd flown off.

He'd flown north until the sun set, and then informed Collins that they were a 17mile hike from the nearest town, and that he had better start walking with the early morning light. Come morning he'd continued his trek north across Australia to New Guinea and from there he'd made the flight to Indonesia. He'd rested there for a few days, worrying over his friend's now empty body. The body remained but his Laurence was gone. Malaysia was his next resting point and from there he'd made the journey back to the main land, landing in Thailand and making his way from there, up into china.

Once he was there he'd gone straight to his mother and elder brother to arrange to have Laurence's body buried properly. Only in China Laurence was a prince, and his remains where handled accordingly. Temeraire still remembered the ceremony, remembered how Laurence's body had been handled with all the respect due to one of the sons of the Celestial Empire. He'd been stripped of the harness as soon as he'd arrived and had immediately told his family of the horrors Laurence had silently endured. When the preparations where finally over he'd stood watching the ceremony wearing much in the way of white silk finery to mark his mourning the loss of his captain.

He'd stayed in China a full two decades visiting Laurence's grave often, his mother had consoled him by reminding him that Laurence had been a good man and surely his spirit had been reincarnated and that it may not happen in the human's next life but sooner or later he would be reunited with the man's spirit.

However after two decades he'd discovered his need for change and had flown off to see a bit more of the world. He'd headed for Japan curious to meet some of the Japanese Breeds, he'd always intended to return to china, but the new laws banning dragons from going anywhere without their handler was passed soon after his arrival, and he'd soon found himself shipped off to the breeding grounds in a remote part of Japan.

Now the world was being gradually opened up again.

As soon as he was able he would go first to china to see his family, then he would find this reincarnation of his beloved Laurence, and hopefully have another human life time with his dear, dear friend.

~~~***~~~

A.N: Okay so here's the next part, it's a bit longer and it tells us what Temeraire has been up to. Please read and review. It gives my muse a kick in the pants. Anyone think they know what's happening? Well bye for now.


	3. Chapter 3

Yuri Shaboya, 27th king of Shin Makoku sat back in his desk chair, in his classroom on earth, utterly flabbergasted by what he'd just learned.

Dragons where real!

Not just in Shin Makoku, but here on earth as well. The U.N had just ruled that for the good of the global Economy they were going to unearth the Ancient global cover up.

He couldn't believe it.

Yet somehow it all made sense. Every culture on Earth had Dragon myths. It was true the dragon's featured in these myths where widely varied from one another, but didn't that make some sense? After all deer that were native to different regions where all different but they were still sheep. In addition to that Yuri remembered studying the Napoleonic wars and several other historical battles that took place before the 1870's. He'd always wondered at some of the descriptions of the many different wars and at the gaping holes in the historical picture painted by his textbooks. It was also interesting to note the fact that many of the old paintings of the different wars had featured Dragons. Things simply hadn't added up, but now the peaces of the puzzle of history he hadn't known were missing began to fall into their proper places.

Apparently when the Meiji government dismantled the old feudal system they first restricted the movements of Dragons and their riders. Then in 1876 they banished the dragons to small Island aeries, and completely demolished the Japanese aerial Corps, called the Kaze Samurai, or Wind Samurai.

With the dragons themselves banished to their aeries the Government had given their riders the option of going with their riders into a permanent exile, or taking a 3 year pension, cutting their long hair, and swearing an oath never to speak of Dragons again, before trying to assimilate into 'proper society.'

Apparently advances in technology and industry had rendered dragon's less useful, and eventually every other country had done the same. The consequence was that Dragons had been completely, globally, forgotten -except in old tales and myths.

Enduring more than a century of confined isolation – now it was all about to end. Now with the world economy resting in the hands of Capitalists, the U.N had decided that the Dragon's could be used to generate revenue. Japan was leading the way, in exactly a month they would be opening up their dragon preserves as a sort of horrible bastardization of an amusement park and a petting zoo.

Now that Dragon's where being reintroduced into the world his school and Murata's where sending the top 10% of their senior classes to witness the opening of the dragon Compound. Personally Yuri was worried about this, form what he'd witnessed of the live feed from the U.N. it didn't sound like the Dragon Riders had even been consulted on the idea of opening the grounds or using the dragon's as a public attraction.

It was true the Dragon's had once been tame, a portrait provided by the Laurence Family of one of their son's standing beside an immense black dragon carefully stroking the creature's muzzle, had supported to this. Apparently the Portrait had been commissioned by the rider's mother, and the back was labeled _William and Temeraire _in eloquent script. The year 1817 and the words "In loving memory of a son who risked everything for his beliefs', was written just under the label, and scrawled beside it in a different hand was the words 'A Traitor and No son of Mine'.

Yuri rather suspected there was more to that story then he would ever know. It was interesting that one parent would hail the man as courageous for fighting for his beliefs while the other would disown him as a traitor. Idly he wondered what the government had thought of it all. Despite himself his thoughts wondered to Conrad. His beloved Godfather had committed Treason against his own crown years ago, defecting to Big Shimeron in an attempt to liberate one of the 4 demon boxes from the hands of the country's insane monarch. Conrart had made an enormous sacrifice to protect his people and the interest of his king, knowing full well that he could have been executed for it.

He'd pardoned his Godfather, after the truth had come out, and had always believed Conrad had to have a very good reason for his actions – but it didn't change the risks the man had taken.

However his own Curiosity about the motives of one William Laurence aside, he didn't think it was a good idea to simply open up the world's dragon preserves and make them into an amusement park and petting zoo. After more than 130 years spent in isolation he suspected that the dragons and their riders had formed their own societies.

Still he had every intention of requesting permission from his father to go and see the dragons for himself. Thanks to Conrad and Murata he had the grades to go.

~~~***~~~

Yuri stood in his swimming trunks outside in his backyard a waterproof bag carefully wrapped around his backpack. He filled the small wading pool in the backyard and waited for Murata to escape his mother. It didn't take long the other boy joined him after a few more minutes clad in his own swimming trunks, and holding his own book bag wrapped in a waterproof bag.

"So are you planning on going to the reserve that's being opened now?" Yuri asked quietly.

"Yes, I intend to go - If only to see this insane spectacle for myself." Murata replied, the light flashing off his glasses.

Yuri sighed as he stepped into the pool. "I'm glad, I'm not the only one who feels this is a bad idea. I'm not sure why the U.N supports this idiotic idea."

Murata sighed, "I have found during the course of my many lives that Governments, will often descend into the realm of the insane during times of economic hardship, for the prospect of making a few silver pennies. Present company excluded."

Yuri snorted, "still seems idiotic."

"because it is, are you going to ask one of your parents to chaperone?" Murata asked quietly before adding "Or will you ask Conrad to accompany you as a chaperone?"

Yuri paused and waited for them to be transported through the water to Shin Makoku, before answering. "Actually I hadn't given any thought to asking my parents or Conrad to play the chaperone." Yuri replied after spitting out a mouthful of water. "However now that you mention it, it might be fun to take Conrad along as a chaperone, but I have no idea how to explain who he is."

By this time they'd managed to swim to the edge of the Maou's private bath, and climbed out making their way over to shelves lining one alcove to retrieve a pair of fluffy towels.

"Why not try the truth?" Murat asked drying off first his glasses then the rest of his body with one fluffy towel.

Yuri sighed as he dug through his bag for some dry clothing. "somehow I doubt that would work You and I still look 16 but we've only been interacting with our world for a few Years and Conrad still looks the same as he did when he delivered my soul to my parents."

Murata snorted as he buttoned up his gold trimmed black jacket "true it would be rather difficult to explain how a young man of almost 18 can have a godfather who looks like he's 20 at the oldest. I doubt anyone on earth would believe us if we told them Conrart's actually 135. However have you considered telling them he's a friend of the family or even that he's your cousin? He does look a bit like your mother at any rate. "

Yuri nodded considering that as he buttoned his own Jacket, "I suppose."

Finally fully dressed, they left the bath chamber and headed out across the castle, at this hour Conrad would be training with his men, so they were headed for the courtyard. They hadn't gotten very far when a redheaded whirlwind clad in a red and white blew past them, holding what looked like a black stuffed animal out in front of her.

Hard on the mad scientist/ scary feminist's heels came a tall lean figure clad in tan.

"Anissina, give it back." Conrad yelled rather childishly as he chased her through the halls.

Yuri turned and looked at Murata with a startled expression, "Did we just get blown into Shin Makoku's distant past or is my god father really chasing Lady Anissina through the palace over a stuffed animal?"

"No Conrad's really chasing Anissina over what appears to be a stuffed animal." Murata replied evenly.

"Shall we follow?"

"I believe that would be a good idea Shaboya."

That said they followed the two squabbling adults, though ironically at a more sedate pace. Until at last the came to the door to Gwendal's office.

"Gwen make her give back Temmy!" Conrad's voice drifted through the door.

"You're to old for stuffed animals."

They slipped into the office in time to see Lady Anisina playing Keep away with the normally very composed and dignified Lord Weller – who was currently acting a bit juvenile. For a few minutes they simply stood there, utterly bewildered by the truly odd sight. Until finally after what seemed like an hour had passed and Yozak dropped into the office through the open window.

The big spy raised an eyebrow at the scene unfolding in front of him. Gwendal was trying vainly to break apart the rapidly unfolding squabble; Anissina was nimbly evading Conrart, who was simply trying to get 'Temmy' out of her grasp. For their part Yuri and Murata where simply staring at the two.

Yozak sighed, and nimbly hopped up onto Gwendal's desk, for a moment he simply waited. Once Gisela got close enough he struck – pulling what they now realized to be a little black dragon stuffed animal out of Anissina's hands.

"Temmy," Conrart said by way of thanks when the man handed it back to him. Conrart immediately started to inspect the little thing, to ensure that it was undamaged before cradling it to his chest like a young girl with a doll.

In that moment Yuri realized something – and it had nothing to do with Conrad's mental health – that stuffed dragon looked nothing like the dragon's native to Shin Makoku or anywhere else on this world. However it was identical to the dragon on the cover of the pamphlet he'd been given in class.

Identical down to the markings and tendrils.

"Stop teasing Conrad." Yozak said sharply to the now pouting scientist.

Anissina glazed up at the annoyed spy and for one moment looked ashamed before her own pride got the better of her. "He's too old to have an imaginary friend!"

"I don't have an imaginary friend!" Conrart snapped, "Temeraire -" he stopped abruptly.

"Temeraire?" Murata inquired gently.

Conrart spun around, having only just become aware of their presence, a fierce blush making its way up his face and into his hairline. He raised his chin, squared his shoulders and walked out of the room – the very image of dignity and pride, except for the stuffed animal clutched to his chest.

Murata turned and looked at Yuri for a moment, "Temeraire is French," he said finally.

Gwendal sighed, "Just leave Conrart alone, Anissina, he'll get rid of that stuffed animal when he's ready. Besides it's not like he still takes it everywhere it just sits onto of his bed."

"Why does Conrad have a stuffed dragon toy?" Yuri inquired after a minute.

Gwendal and Yozak glanced at each other briefly, before Gwendal finally spoke. "Conrart has been having a for the most part reoccurring set of dreams since he turned 3. They all had only one thing in Common, 'Temmy' it was the best Conrart could do with the strange syllables from a language none of us had ever heard before, that and a man named Laurence -"

_Temeraire and William _sprang unbidden into Yuri's mind. "William Laurence," Yuri whispered in mild surprise, "the Napoleonic wars."

"After his father died, Conrad was very lonely and Mother had the toy made for him, for a while he couldn't sleep without it, as it is now he says it still gives him some level of comfort after waking up from one of his odd dreams." Gwendal continued.

Yuri stood there quietly considering the dragon in the portrait he'd seen on TV matched the dragon on the pamphlet that the school had given them, but was it possible that the 'Laurence Dragon' as it was being called had come to be in Japan? He didn't know, but he did know that Conrad would likely benefit from seeing the earth's dragon preserve, at least getting a glimpse of the dragon might help convince the man he wasn't losing his mind. Which he knew his godfather well enough to know that was likely what the other man feared.

~~~***~~~

A.N please read and review. Conrad's actual name is Lord Conrart Weller, more often then not he's simply called Conrad or Lord Weller. What do you think?


	4. Chapter 4

Yozak Gurrier sighed as he slipped unnoticed into his lover's rooms, Conrart was sitting on the edge of his bed curled up around Temmy like a sullen child. He raised an eyebrow and very carefully curled up around Conrart.

"_I do not have an imaginary friend!" _ The brunet said indignantly.

Yozak couldn't help it, he laughed. "I know that and so does Anissina, she was just being a bitch, don't let her get to you. You know she just lives to annoy people."

"I'm well aware of the fact that Anissina lives to make the lives of anyone not female hell, but I- oh Great One – in front of the Maoh and the Great Sage, I think I'd rather do wingovers on an unharnessed dragon then face this."

Yozak blinked at the odd turn of phrase, and then sighed. "be that as it may, you might be interested in knowing that the Great Sage has identified Temer's name as being French an earth language." He continued completely ignoring Conrad's attempt at correcting his pronunciation of the French word.

Conrart snorted and flopped backwards onto the bed still clutching his stuffed animal to his chest, "that's interesting but it still doesn't change the fact that everyone who knows about Temmy and my dreams thinks I'm quietly losing my mind. Gwendal included."

Carefully Yozak lay back on the bed and gathered the other man – and the damned stuffed animal – into his arms. "I don't think you're crazy, and neither does Gwendal. Hell I've had a lot of weird dreams myself – including that one about a mountain of meat – and you've never made fun of me over it."

It had the desired effect, Conrart laughed.

"As for the Kiddo, well he's identified your stuffed friend here as a dragon breed from Earth." Yozak continued, managing to pry Temmy out of Conrad's grasp. Smiling gently down at the man, he placed the stuffed animal back onto its place of honor before gently rolling Conrad beneath him.

Conrad shoved at the man's shoulders lightly. "You forget, I've been to earth several times they don't have dragons."

Yozak leaned down gently nipped Conrart's jaw. "Oh but it does, apparently they've only just come out of hiding. In about two months on earth, the kiddo's going to go see them with his class. He's decided he wants you to go with him. Now what do you say I make you forget about dragons."

~~~***~~~

Temeraire sighed, and shifted in his new replica of roman dragon harness. The leather and metal was stiff and uncomfortable. He felt utterly ridiculous he hadn't even been alive during any of the Roman engagements – he was fairly certain that his mother had, but that was beside the point. The harness was more like the armor worn by the roman centurions then anything he'd worn during the war with Napoleon.

He glanced around searching for someone who could take the cumbersome harness off, but couldn't seem to find anyone.

But what did he expect when the grounds opened to visitors in a week?

Oh their where boys and a few girls running about but most of them had something to do and no time for him. The few whose attention he'd manage to capture only told him to 'talk to his handler.'

He snorted after hearing that answer for the third time and sat down to wait, eventually the harness men who'd put the ridiculous thing on him had to come and take it off. He didn't feel like explaining to the boys that he had no handler. That only led to hopeful faces as they told him their individual merits. He didn't feel like explaining the fact that he would never and could never set another man in Laurence's place – for now he was content to wait – eventually he would be reunited with the man's soul and he would have his captain back even if it was in a new body with a new name.

When the announcement had first been made and the news of them being revealed to the world and the exchange programs to keep the lines strong had been announced many of the hopefuls had come to him, he was 204 years old now in the year 2009, yet unlike most of the dragons on the preserve who had been alive when he'd first flown in, he was still young, and likely to live another several hundred years.

But he would except no place in the hopefully reforming Japanese Ariel forces – he would except no captain but his own – and he didn't care if he had to fly the entire world sticking his head into windows to find him.

He flicked his tail and waited sooner or later someone would remember he had no 'handler' and would come and relieve him of the harness – if only to get on his better side and convince him to take them as his new handler. Snorting to himself he picked up one of the old writing frames he'd had made when he first got here and began to write.

Soft voice in the salt of the sea

Murmuring softly through the shell

Listen to the voices drifting on the breeze

Rise to find you

Joy in uniting sorrow in parting

Will I see you one day when?

Captain of the air and sea?

~~~***~~~

Conrad sighed as he gathered his things, he wasn't particularly sure about this. Carefully he set out the clothing he would be wearing when they got to earth – dark blue swim trunks and neatly packed the rest of his clothing into his waterproof saddle bags, before adding his boots, his earth passport, the leather wallet he kept for whenever he had to go to earth, some papers that needed his attention, his favorite sword belt –minus the sword – and the rather large book he was currently reading.

He couldn't help feeling that Temeraire would have enjoyed it if he'd actually been able to read to a figment of his imagination.

Finally with everything packed away and ready to go he made his way out of the palace and onto the grounds where he excepted the reins of his horse from one of the stable hands. The poor thing was getting up there in years and he'd decided that it was time to put him to pasture, as soon as he got back from this trip he would need to find and train a new war horse.

He glanced around searching for Yozak, but his lover had already left on assignment for his older brother Gwendal, he would have to see the man when he got back.

Maybe then after seeing some dragons that where a bit more like the one in his dreams he could finally move on, and maybe even get up the courage to do the socially unacceptable and marry the other man, who's rank was so far beneath his own. He just needed to know he wasn't crazy.

As one, his godson and king Yuri, the Great Sage Ken Murata and about 13 of his best officers set off for the temple of the Great One, where they would be transported to Japan on earth, and likely Yuri's bathroom.

He hoped the tub was empty this time – the last time he'd come through had been rater embarrassing. For them and Shori.

~~~***~~~

A.N

Gwendal is Conrart's elder brother n Shori is Yuri's. Please review. Sorry this is short but I have a bad cold n this is all I can manage right now if there are obvious errors please let me know and I will fix them a soon as the coughing lets me think properly. Please review.

Conrad is the second son of the last queen, and godfather of the current king, his elder brother is the Lord Marshal and his Younger brother is engaged to the Yuri – by accident, much to yuri's dismay.


	5. Chapter 5

Temeraire shifted and flapped his wings vigorously trying to loosen his wing muscles, in a few short hours the newly made ornamental cherry wood gates to what was now being called a Dragon park, zoo and breeding grounds would open, and they would be inundated with the first of their now expected daily visitors. Carefully he made his way back up the hill side, walking instead of flying, the armor was bulky and cumbersome, restricting the movement of his wings, and in places it even cut into the softer flesh near the joints of his wings. The soft skin was already beginning toughen and callous under the constant scrape of the leather and jointed metal.

He missed Laurence, he missed having someone take off his harness daily, and he missed the soft caress of a moistened rag running across his hide as his captain carefully helped him to clean up after a meal. These where all the everyday little things, Laurence had preformed until age stole the ability to do so from him, never once complaining or making him feel like he was little more the a time consuming exotic pet.

He missed the companionship dearly.

Finally after reaching the cave he'd long ago claimed as his own, he lowered his head stretching out his neck so that it was almost parallel to the ground and tucked his wings tightly against his back. The cave had seemed roomy enough when he'd first moved into it, but now the entrance was a bit snug, with only 6 feat of clearance on any side.

Before the announcement of the reintroduction of dragons to the world he'd been considering enlarging the cave or possibly even moving as the inner chamber while larger was becoming a bit snug, actually it was only just large enough to stand up in – assuming he didn't hold his head up proudly while he was standing.

Now he was determined to endure it until he had the chance to leave and return to his native China, where the large population – should mean that the chances where high he would find Laurence there. If his captain wasn't in China he would move on until he reached Brittan from there he would press on – if he had to he would search the entire world.

Almost reverently he arranged his gold chain, talon sheaths, and Laurence's sword, to his liking his own breastplate was crushed against his breast bone by the armor he was currently wearing, rather unpleasantly, but he had refused to let them take it off.

For now he would endure – but as soon as they took off the armor he would find a way to leave. However since he was stuck here, he would watch the throngs of visitors to see if he could find his captain.

The sound of drums told him that the park was opening and that it was time for him to perform like a damned dancing bear. With an annoyed snarl that had more in common with water striking white hot stone then a growl he left his cave determined to at least search for his captain. Still he paused at his entryway and had to steel himself for the aggravation to come.

_For the chance to find you again Laurence, I will endure this._

~~~***~~~

Conrart Laurence Weller sighed as he stood amidst the many other park visitors waiting to be admitted. He kept a practiced eye on his godson and the Great Sage Ken Murata, while at the same time looking out for the two other boys in his charge. In some ways his apparent youth was working against him. The two boys he was supervising where of the opinion that he wasn't going to keep them in line since he was only a year or two their senior. They'd already found out they were wrong last night at the hotel when he'd caught them Trying to sneak into the girls hotel rooms, and again a few hours later when he caught them trying to sneak out of the window.

He'd been so annoyed he'd stood them in opposite corners like little boys.

They were lucky he couldn't deal with them in the same way he could deal with his cadets.

To make matters worse he'd twice been mistaken for a boy, it was a bit annoying – but nothing he couldn't handle. He was physically the youngest of the chaperones although in truth he'd seem more in terms of years and in the case of one military father, military engagements. The man – a captain in his own right, had the tendency to call him cadet.

That actually was the most difficult to handle.

However the man had seen the 'Military in his demeanor' and had decided that do to his youth he had to be a cadet. So he'd taken the time to tell him tails his past engagements and the glorious things he could look forward to in his future Career as a man of the military. The most embarrassing part of it all came when the man asked him what his fastest time was for assembling some odd bit of Earth technology or another. He'd been forced to admit that he'd never even heard of what he was talking about, the man had then gone off on a rather long winded tangent about something called a Raffle. Conrad's only response to that one had been to nod and finally lean over and enquire – in his own language just what a Raffle was. Yuri bless him had managed not to laugh (much) at his predicament and explained that a Rifle was apparently the current earth equivalent of a crossbow – but a lot faster and more deadly.

Beyond that since all of the other chaperones where in their late 30's to middle 40's, well so far he'd had his hair ruffled, his back patted and had been pronounced 'cute' on several occasions. It was humiliating! It took every ounce of his will power not to go find the nearest body of water and stand in it until Yuri, Murata or the grate one himself sent him home where he wasn't in imminent danger of having his cheeks pinched again.

Finally after what seemed like hours the gates began to open and they all filed in. first they were lead into a huge chamber with rice paper walls and told a story of how the first Japanese Samurai had befriended and cared for a young dragon with an injured wing. In return for his kindness the dragon had later saved his life in battle. Over the years their friendship had grown and the dragon had consented to carrying him into battle. That dragon had later given her eggs to the man's clan, and they had taken to the air, eventually becoming the Kaze Samurai, and the dragon Breeders, who's decedents still occupied the different Japanese preserves.

It was an interesting story.

Finally after what seemed like 5 minutes but was really 3 hours, they had moved through the interior sections of the park past glass covered enclosures where the Kaze Samurai – as they still thought of themselves) where busily tending to the eggs of their charges, and other areas where hatchlings where being fed, and taught by a small but apparently fully grown dragon that was hardly larger then a boar hound. First they were led outside and introduced to the hatchlings of the different Japanese species; there were only 7 of them.

They were cute little things long and sinuous. Nothing like the dragons from his own world, or even like Temeraire - who he remembered as a hatchling in his dreams; however they were a lot closer to Temmy then anything on his world cold ever possibly be. The dragonets chirped at them as they gently petted the soft, silky, warm hide, and most amazingly of all spoke a few scattered words of Japanese.

It made him think.

If these Dragons could speak any human language, then it was possible for his dreams of Laurence and Temeraire to be true. Although he still didn't know what it meant. He bit his bottom lip in an old gesture of disquiet . after a few minutes he turned and asked Yuri in a quiet undertone, "Heika, does the name Napoleon mean anything to You?"

Yuri, who was buisy petting a small blue dragon, looked up at him. "Is that a name from one of your dreams?" the boy asked quietly.

Conrart nodded

"He was a dictator that lived in the 1800's; he tried to take over much of the European world. He was -" Yuri told him quietly.

"French no he was Co -." Conrart finished for him when the young king broke off, but he couldn't for the life of him pronounce the name of the place of Neapolitan's birth. Finally he just gave up.

Yuri offered him a small smile, "Right."

Somehow that, made him feel a lot better. Just knowing that at least here someone had heard of some part of his dreams as a recognizable part of history, made him feel less like his sanity wasn't teetering on the edge of a knife's blade. At length they moved into another area of the park, Young Children where clambering up and down the back of a few enormous dragons.

Somehow he could tell that these Animals where past their prime, each scale was tinged with red, because age had sapped the color from them until each gleaming scale was almost translucent. Their eyes were almost milky from cataracts. Idly he wondered whether the poor things where arthritic as well. Regardless he hoped that these people had given thought to the ailments of age before setting their youngsters to scrambling across the poor dragon's backs, as if they were nothing more than a living, breathing obstacle course and jungle gym to be traversed.

Even if they had, the inattentive parents of the boisterous children in the seething mass of visitors had little thought to the geriatric dragons comfort. They however did seem eager to be rid of their overly energetic offspring and the park itself had allowed them to forget – however briefly – the raw lethal power of the creatures their children where clambering all over.

Their guild cast an uncaring glance over in the general direction of the elder dragons with their happily squealing burdens of immature human flesh, when one dragon snorted in annoyance. The hard soul of one booted young foot stuck into his nostril because several young souls had taken it upon themselves to scale his face rather than his harness. Their guild raised an eyebrow at the sight, but turned away and kept right on talking.

For Conrart – who had grown up in a land where dragons were protected under law and were all but revered in lore and in life – it was inconceivable.

One child, determined to climb up the dragon's face, stuck his foot into the poor creature's eye and grabbed hold of one of the spines jetting up from the Animal's brow. The small child who he realized was hardly older than 4 attempted to haul himself up, Causing the dragon to hiss in pain.

The boy it seemed didn't quite have the upper body strength to pull off the move without the use of his feet, which where flailing precariously close to the Dragon's eye, as he attempted to find another toehold.

The second hiss of pain was more than Conrart could endure, if the boy's parents weren't going to do something to help the poor dragon – he certainly would! Without thinking he left his spot by Yuri's side and forced his way through the crowd, past their guild and made his way to the dragon's side. Gently he lifted the small child, who he now realized was in fact a girl, up onto the dragon's head. He kept his voice soft and gentle as he admonished the child to be careful; lest he hurt the dragon who was being kind enough to let him climb on top of his head so that he might have a better view of the world.

Conrad managed not to jump in surprise when the dragon's deep rumbling voice thanked him in flawless Japanese.

"Thank you for your assistance, it is nice to find a Hatchling who was taught manners, tell me child what is your name?" the Dragon rumbled.

Conrart blinked, not sure if he was being asked his name or if the young girl was, however since the address had started out being directed at him he answered anyway – mildly amused by the dragon's use of the term hatchling. "I am Conrart Laurence Weller, with whom do I have the honor of conversing?"

The dragon snorted, steam billowing forth from the great bluish, silver nostrils. "it is rare that I find one who is so proper, I am Called Mashimizu. Tell me Conrart, where is your dragon? Your soul cries out at the loss, as if begging for the one to who the bond was originally formed."

Conrart honestly didn't know how to take that bit of information. "I have no dragon Companion, I was born outside the preserve, in a different land."

"However?" Mashimizu prompted mildly.

Conrart flushed, "I have seen the land from the skies, in my dreams since I was in swaddling- cloths, and often in my dreams I spoke with a great dragon who spoke back. I had begun to fear for my sanity before my … before a member of my family found out about this place and brought me here."

The dragon raised his head causing the child seated on top of him to squeal in delight. "it is sadly a reality faced by many humans who should have been reunited with their companions these long years of isolation. Young Conrart I hope the sands of time smile on you and that your Companion is on these grounds. You are not mine, nor my mate's but there are a few others here who saw the first closing of the great gates. Perhaps your companion is among them. You should go your group is moving, again. Will you see to it that this hatchling upon my head is brought back to the group safely?"

Conrart bowed, and waited for the great dragon to lower his head, and he reached up to take the child down. He had no illusions; he'd just spent a few minutes talking with a dragon that likely could have swallowed him whole without much trouble.

It was a humbling experience.

He handed the girl back to her parents to her father's thanks and pushed his way back through the crowd to his godson's side feeling lighter somehow. Idly he glanced around, taking in the faces around him wondering how many people here shared his silent almost nightly torment of longing and loss he couldn't place.

Murata gave him a knowing look, the light flashing off his glasses as they finally emerged into the open air.

"We'll see a few fighting formations, and some dragon's in the armor used during the various historical battles before we proceed on to where the dragon rides will be given, however we will be ferried their on dragon-back." Their guild told them mildly. "so turn your eyes to the sky."

~~~***~~~

Temeraire flew quietly over the heads of the gathered crowd feeling the burning ach in his chest getting stronger and stronger with each group he flew for. He didn't know what it was he was feeling. However he flew proudly, each stroke of his wings sure and graceful, as he preformed aerobatic maneuvers along the fringes of his formation. Mashimizu, had told him to fly with courage today. He told him to fly as if he flew for his beloved captain, to show the colors of his wings with pride and not to forget that he had seen battles unlike the youngsters he flew beside. If he flew like this he would be saving more then he could possibly know. Mashimizu was a seer so he followed his instructions. He was beginning to suspect what he was saving was his own pride and his spirit.

However he could handle that.

Someday soon he would leave to find his captain again, unlike the other's who had had a captain before the breeding grounds had closed he could still fly off to find his captain in this life, and he would have the chance to spend more than just his dying days with them again.

They were just finishing their display, when he heard it. a soft voice he'd never heard before with a strange accent he couldn't place whispering a single word.

"Temeraire?"

~~~***~~~~

A.N. Okay so I lied, there will be more than 5 chapters. Still sick but getting better.

Mashimizu means clear water in Japanese

Temeraire ironicly means rash or reckless I don't think that was what Laurence was going for when he first named the dragonet that hatched on his ship.


	6. Chapter 6

Temeraire looked down at the ground scanning the crowd, trying to find the owner of that voice. Trying to find his Laurence in his new form from down amid the crowd – but he had no idea what the man looked like. He could only get a general idea of where he was and there were more than a hundred people crammed onto that ledge. He would have to get closer to find his captain, and there wasn't enough space to land directly on the ledge.

For a while he hovered above the mass of little humans, trying to pinpoint his captain, but it was no use, he could only narrow his chose down to a small group of about 30 men, women and children. A young man, barely more then a boy – gazing up at the sky out of calm brown eyes, his mahogany hair blowing in the wind produced by his beating wings drew his attention more than the others, but he needed to be sure and for that he needed a closer look.

Temeraire knew he was about to terrify a lot of people; with a sigh he folded his wings and dropped to land awkwardly on the cliff face rather than the ledge. He was fairly certain he was going to give the tour guild a heart attack, by landing so close to him. It was understandable the tour guild was 1 of about a 100 men who'd been hired last week to dress in traditional garb and lead the 'parks' visitors around, outside of that week he had no experience with dragons.

~~~***~~~

Yuri jerked in mild surprise when he heard Conrart whisper a single word beside him. "Temeraire?" the man sounded more startled and confused than anything else. Almost like a small child trying vainly to convince himself he wasn't lost.

Yuri scanned the skies looking for the creature that had so grabbed his godfather's attention. There was one dragon, flying in formation with 7 others, who appeared to be black, just like Conrart's stuffed animal 'Temmy'. Of course it was possible that the dragon was a dark blue, either way, it was clear that Conrart's whispered words had caught the dragon's attention. The great beast folded his wings and swooped down on them landing mostly off of the ledge, his claws digging into the side of the cliff, his front claws digging into the top of the ledge itself. It was perched so that their guild was standing almost directly in between its foreclaws. Their guild looked up startled, before snapping something sharply and making a sharp gesture at the floor. The dragon lowered his mighty head, the afternoon sun light flashed brightly of the mettle and leather helmet he was wearing, as he moved.

"He is here, and he is mine." The dragon said almost possessively. "No I will not go away."

Their guild frantically swatted at the great muzzle and pointed at the air. The dragon simply shook his head and began to inspect them all. People screamed in alarm and drew back.

Yuri himself couldn't help but be alarmed, that dragon was huge! It could have swallowed him whole, or flattened him by accidently stepping on him without so much as noticing.

The large head, moved almost directly above them inspecting more than 23 people at an alarmingly close range, dismissing them all very quickly. Yuri could just make out one enormous blue eye underneath the heavy metal hood, and a series of spines protruding out of the base, with a great fan of what looked like black silk strung between the spines. Idly he wondered what purpose they stood as a part of the obviously roman helmet. Then the dragon moved on inspecting the man behind him, before moving to Conrart who stood at his side. However when the dragon came to Conrad, his inspection intensified, and the long forked, almost serpent like tongue, flicked out of the creatures mouth and seemed to inspect every inch of the man.

Conrad stood his ground.

Oddly completely unfazed, however when the tip of one forked tongue, flicked across the shell of Conrart's ear, his unfazed look vanished beneath a wave of giggles that wracked his entire body.

Apparently the man was ticklish.

~~~***~~~

Conrart couldn't believe it, that was Temeraire. Temeraire who had been hardly the size of a large bird dog when he'd first hatched, according to his memories. Or rather Laurence's memories; now however, the dragon was enormous now. He had to be closer to 50 tons then the 38 tons he'd weighed the last time they'd set eyes on each other. Or rather the last time Laurence had set eyes on his beloved dragon, but then this Temeraire was now over a century and a half older.

The dragon was now 2 centuries old and the changes in his friend amazed him. It was good to know that he wasn't in fact quietly losing his mind as he had always privately feared.

He stood still allowing Temeraire his examination without protest; although he couldn't help giggling when the tip of Temeraire's tongue brushed the shell of his ear. He couldn't help it his ears where very sensitive – and the only one who even knew that he was ticklish was Yozak, so it was a sensation he was ill prepared for.

The dragon made a deep throated noise, like a dove cooing but far far deeper. He reached up without thinking to stroke what he could reach of the great black cheek – beneath the ridiculous armor, pressing his cheek into Temeraire's muzzle. For a moment he was lost, lost in the pure joy of the moment, he was reunited with his long lost best friend. However a soft 'click' drew him out of his thoughts, and he caught sight of the oncoming men.

Each of them armed with a device he'd never laid eyes on, but recognized from his dreams.

Guns

He didn't know if they were regular guns like the pistol Laurence had carried, or the pepper guns that had been such a hazard in battle. However he didn't want to find out. "Temeraire, fly." He said firmly, his hand dropping to the hilt of a sword that wasn't there.

He felt the shift in the air as the great dragon unfurled his fan-like wings. But to his surprise the dragon didn't take to the air. Instead he roared out a challenge.

The sound was all but deafening for Conrart who was standing underneath the great head. For one terrifying moment he was sure the dragon would engage the oncoming men – then the ground fell away, with only a sharp jerk at his hips heralding the event.

It took him a moment to work out the fact that Temeraire had grabbed his heavy belt in his teeth before taking to the air.

He blinked, highly confused – before realizing with mild amusement that he had run up against the dragon's protective instincts.

~~~***~~~

Temeraire kept one hand under his muzzle as he flew poised to catch his captain when the boy's belt inevitably snapped under his weight. With one of his serrated fangs hooked under the leather there was no way the belt would hold under the young man's weight. He would have liked to simply snatch the man up in one hand, but there had been no way and no time to do so, and he was not about to leave him on the ground surrounded by men with guns.

He flew swiftly, rising above the startled 7 dragon's he had been flying beside and headed for his own cave. He could protect the boy who was both Laurence and not there with far more ease then he could on that ledge.

It only took a few minutes to reach his den by wing, and he landed lightly on his own ledge, and carefully put the young man down. There was an odd sound, like a high pitched, squeal, as he slid his lower incisor out from under the belt.

"I'm honestly surprised that belt, survived that." Temeraire said mildly watching as the boy unbuckled his belt and slid it free of the loops on his odd blue and white leggings.

He flipped it over in his hands inspecting it, over his shoulder Temeraire could see that while his fang had gouged a deep furrow into the leather, but his fang had been stopped mid way by a now dented piece of metal. "I'm not all that surprised really, the belt is made out of several strips of … leather, linen and a strong but lightweight, flexible and very sturdy medal. The end product is lightweight but highly durable. It's also strong enough to stop an arrow. We use it for sword belts, armor and to line our armor, among other things. "

"I see, that sounds interesting," Temeraire replied, wonderingidly how that would translate in terms of harness. "We'll have to find a book on the subject." He sat back on his haunches, realizing with a bit of fear that he didn't even know the boy's name.

"That armor doesn't look entirely comfortable," the boy said quietly. "Actually it looks like its chafing. Would you like some help removing it, or do you have someone to do that for you?"

Temeraire blinked. "I'd appreciate it." he replied lowering his head.

~~~***~~~

Conrart smiled as he inspected the odd armor; finally he began to unbuckle the strange contraption that was apparently a helmet. He wished he had his bags with him he had a small pot salve that would do wonders for the poor creature's chafed skin. It looked like Temeraire had stuffed soft scraps of sheep wool into the armor to keep it from chafing. In some places he could see where the beautiful black scales had begun to press together, overlapping to form a callous.

Finally after five minutes of unbuckling the myriad of buckles holding the strange helmet together and in place, the helmet literally fell off. He likely would have been crushed by the falling mass of leather and bronze, had Temeraire not caught the thing in his talons and set it calmly aside. It took a few more minutes to remove the thick, studded, leather, collar that made up the neck guard, but the work was worth it just to see the Dragon's beautiful frill snap up and stretch out in a beautiful display of ebony and sapphire, before it lowered back into its customary resting position.

Idly he wondered just how long his dragon had had to endure having his frill literally bound to his neck. Then he paused, realizing what he'd just thought. Much as he wanted to he couldn't stay. Earth wasn't his home. He wasn't human, he didn't belong here – and it wasn't like he could take the dragon back to Shin Makoku. Demons died from over using their gifts and he was not about to ask his king to attempt something that could kill him.

But were did that leave him?

Should he give up his home, his life, his family, his – Yozak, to stay here and fly the skies in what amounted to a dragon amusement park? Or should he give up the one thing he'd literally been dreaming about since he was a small child and try to go on with a life he'd never truly felt suited for?

He sat down on Temeraire's smooth neck and slid back down to the ground. Trying to decide what to do as he made his way over to one of the Dragon's forelegs with it's enormous greaves.

He was so distressed by the thought of leaving Temeraire behind now that he'd found him again that he flung himself into the task at hand with a single-mindedness that likely would have gotten him killed at home. So he very nearly jumped out of his skin when Temeraire finally broke down and asked him his name. he flushed hotly at being recalled his forgotten manners.

"I am Conrart Laurence Weller," Conrad replied as he carefully pulled off the enormous armguard, and attempted to drag it away. "However my godson calls me Conrad, and so do a lot of other people, so you may call me that if you wish."

"Conrart," Temeraire said, testing out the sound of his name, as he carefully pulled the arm guard away and leaned it against the entryway of the cave with the helmet and throat guard. "it's a fine name, but what is it's origin? It sounds almost German, I know Conrad is but I have never heard Conrart before."

Conrart paused. How did he explain the fact that he was from an entirely different world, and that while he looked human he in fact wasn't, to a dragon? he remembered from his dreams that Temeraire was a very curious and intelligent creature, but would he understand this? Their was only one way to find out. "It's not German, I'm Mazoku, I come from an entirely different world. Actually I'm not even human; well not fully."

~~~***~~~

_This was the scene at one of Japan's newly opened dragon parks as an enormous dragon carried of a young man this afternoon. Park officials, are scrambling to locate the den of this particular dragon and all efforts are being made to retrieve the young man. The question remains will he be alive when park officials finally manage to reach him. This reporter has to wonder just what attracted the dragon to this particular young man. Why was he taken over any of the other people –_

Disgusted Ken Murata turned off the TV, and glanced over at a currently pacing Yuri. "I'm sure he's fine Siboya that dragon could have swallowed him whole but he chose not to. I think he may have been trying to protect Him. After all he did grab Conrart's belt in his teeth not Lord Weller himself."

Yuri gave him an incredulous look, "Conrad was Just Carried off by a _Dragon, _How CAN you be Calm at a time like THIS?!"

"I've found over my many lives that it's best to just let things unfold, getting stressed over it does nothing." Murata replied, in the Mazoku language, ignoring Yuri's gawking roommate.

Yuri sighed highly annoyed, "Sometimes," he replied in the same tongue, "I forget you where once Dikenja, advisor to Shinou himself. To me you are Just Murata Ken, a good friend of mine and someone who's advice I normally take. However I do not see how cultivating calmness can possibly help in this situation. We should be out there helping to look for Conrad."

"Conrart is perfectly capable of protecting himself, or would you label the captain of your own guard incompetent?"

Yuri sighed, "It is not that I feel Conrad is incapable of defending himself," Yuri said, unconsciously switching back to Japanese. "However you and I both know that Dragons are protected and considered nearly sacred in Shin Makoku. Conrart grew up in that culture, and you and I both know that he would not risk hurting the Dragon, if it were at all avoidable. He would not raise a weapon to defend himself."

Murata shook his head slightly at Yuri's reckless reference to the other world; it was a good thing they'd mentioned that Conrart came from a small foreign country. "I believe you are underestimating Lord Weller's will to survive and to protect you from any harm, real or emotional." Murata replied with a slight sigh. "In the morning we will return to the Park and look for him, but for now we should sleep. We are not good to Conrad in this condition."

It took him the better part of three hours to convince Yuri to calm down and get him to actually sleep.

~~~***~~~

Temeraire gazed sadly down at the Young man asleep upon his arm. It was Laurence's customary spot and as far as he was concerned only served to validate his belief that this man was in fact his Laurence born again. He had finally found his captain, his best friend again. Yet, he could not keep him. Conrart was as irrevocably entangled in his duty to his king as Laurence had been. He needed to go home, and much as they both wished to, there was no way Temeraire could follow, and no way he could stay. In a few days he would lose his captain again. Only this time it wouldn't be to death it would be to life.

A series of soft clicking sounds pulled him out of his thoughts and he snapped his frill up, losing him or not he was not about to let these people hurt his Conrart!

Abruptly the cave was flooded with light, Conrart cursed in his own language and rolled off of his arm, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. Carefully Temeraire nudged him in the direction of the sword he had given to Laurence so long ago. The blade had been carefully maintained by the Kaze Samurai, over the long years and was still just as sharp and deadly as it had been a century ago.

~~~***~~~

Conrart sighed, and rubbed tiredly at his eyes, it had taken the better part of a few hours to explain things to the park officials and to the over abundance of News reporters. But in the end it was generally accepted that he was Temeraire's captain. Currently he was being given a lecture on his duty and they loyalty he should display to his dragon by one of the Kaza Samurai. Apparently when Japan had shut its dragons up in the various preserves it had also shut away an entire clan of Samurai, those living today were the decedents of the men and women who had gone with the Japanese dragon population.

He'd explained his duty to his king and his people, and been told simply that he would have to find a way to spend time with Temeraire. That he was either to come live on the preserve, take Temeraire with him or find a way to spend time in both places. So long as he spent time with Temeraire they did not much mind that he would be dividing his time between his country, his duty to his king, and his duty to his Dragon and by extension his clan. As that was what they now considered him to be – a part of the Kaze clan.

How in the hell was he supposed to deal with this one?

He was being formally adopted at midnight.

In some ways it was ironic that Laurence would be adopted by the Chinese emperor in order to keep Temeraire so long ago, and now he was being adopted for much the same reason by the Kaze Samurai.

~~~***~~~

A.N

Okay so here we go the next chap should be up soon.


	7. Chapter 7

~~~***~~~

Conrart was quiet as he accepted the strange garments from the two other men in the room with him. He pulled them on, accepting help with arranging them from one of the Kaze Samurai, and listening quietly to the other lecture him on the ways of the clan he was just about to become a part of. His clothing was to be a beautiful sapphire blue silk with beautifully embroidered black dragons, along the hem of the collar and sleeves. The belt was the only part of his ensemble that wasn't ever supposed to change color, it was a deep midnight black with blue embellishments in honor of his Temeraire.

He hissed as someone gave his short hair a slight tug, he nodded when the other man admonished him to grow out his hair. Apparently the only time a Kaze Samurai cut his hair was in mourning for his dragon's death or if he was for some reason tried and judged as being unworthy of the right to bond with a hatchling or any dragon.

~~~***~~~

Yuri sat quietly on a rock watching as the big black dragon swooped in for a landing. Temeraire landed gracefully on his back legs his wings kicking up a great gust of wind. Carefully the great dragon put down one of his front legs keeping the other one tucked up against his chest, after a moment he folded his wings and set Conrart – who had been cradled in his other hand – down on the ground. Finally with all four feet on the ground Temeraire, sat down, curling his tail about himself in a way that made him look like a giant cat.

Yuri blinked, his godfather was currently wearing traditional Japanese garb, complete with armor. He suppressed the urge to giggle at the rather amusing sight. Conrad had to be the only Samurai to ever have a military haircut – since even now the Kaze Samurai wore their hair in the traditional long topknot.

Conrad stretched and raised an eyebrow slightly at the sight of his giggling godson. "Good morning Heika."

"Conrad," Yuri replied softly, his eyes flicking to the huge dragon looming behind his godfather. "is this your dragon?" he asked after a second.

Conrad gave him a sad smile. "Yuri, may I introduce you to Temeraire, the Celestial Dragon." yet Yuri could hear the pride in his voice. Temeraire lowered his head so that his snout rested almost on Conrart's shoulder and Yuri noted the way Conrad absently stroked the creature's glossy, nose, carefully avoiding the tendrils dangling from his jaws.

Yuri couldn't help wondering why.

"Is this your king?" Temeraire asked, his voice a curiously deep rumble.

Conrad's voice was steady, when he replied, and yet Yuri could hear the pride there two. "Yes, Temeraire, this is his majesty Yuri, 27th king of Shin Makoku."

Idly he wondered how much power would be required to get that Dragon back to Shin Makoku. He couldn't do it alone – he wasn't vain enough to even consider that. Maybe if he and Murata pooled their power? That Dragon made his Godfather Happy, and if anyone deserved happiness it was Conrad.

~~~***~~~

Murata sighed, "I wish I had that kind of power, but I just don't. Even working together the strain would likely kill us both. The only one who has that type of raw power, and the ability to expend it without devastating repercussions, is the great One himself. I don't know if he can be persuaded to help."

"What do we do then?" Yuri asked closing his eyes briefly. "I don't want to lose Conrad, but if it will make him happy – I will order him to remain here."

"You really are blind to things you don't want to acknowledge aren't you?" Murat replied with an almost exasperated air. "Ordering lord Weller to Come to This world to live in an amusement park will cause more harm then good. Or are you truly blined by your own prejudice to the point that you have not yet realized Your godfather is in a relationship with Yozak? I don't mean as a friend – they are intimate. Effectively banishing Lord Weller from his home will not solve anything. If you make it possible for Conrad to come back and spend time with Temeraire, Lord Weller should be content.

~~~***~~~

Temeraire sighed, as he sat quietly on the banks of the small river that ran through the preserve. His beloved Captain, Conrart who was his Laurence born again, was currently wading into the water beside his boy king and the other boy he called the great sage. It was a fresh agony to watch his captain disappear into the water, but it was one he had to endure. Just as Laurence had been a slave to his duty so to was Conrart.

"Good bye, Temeraire." Conrart whispered as the water enveloped him and the three humans disappeared. Temeraire indulged himself in a very small roar, pouring his pain at losing his Captain, again so soon after finding him, into that one pathetic sound. Conrad had promised him he would come back whenever his duty allowed, he'd carefully and painstakingly explained the time difference and the fact that every time he appeared it would be through some body of water. So Temeraire simply curled up on the banks of the river and resolved himself to wait. He had endured a very long and boring stay in two separate breeding grounds he could manage it again.

~~~***~~~

Yuri's power spit them out inside of one of the ornamental fountains, and for a moment all Conrart could do was gaze longingly down into the water, even when both his king and the Great sage had already climbed out. Part of him was screaming with the need to go back. The need to feel shining bright scales under his hand again, gripped his very soul. He could only hope and pray that either Yuri or the great one would send him back to his dragon soon.

"So Conrad, find any dragon's like that stuffed one you refuse to get rid of?" Anissina asked her tone of voice suggesting she already knew the answer – or at least thought she did.

He gazed longingly into the still water of the fountain for a moment longer before glancing up, lifting his chin proudly and finally climbing out of the ornamental water fixture. "Actually yes I did." He replied and headed back into the palace, ignoring the glances his odd clothing was earning him.

Once he got to his room he changed out of the now wet traditional silk clothing of the Kaze Samurai, and carefully hung them up to dry. He would keep them and give them a place of honor as soon as they were properly dried.

Maybe he really should grow his hair out – he knew from his memories of his time as Laurence that long hair was not a requirement of every nation in terms of dragons, but he would not risk being an embarrassment to Temeraire on his return visits. With a sigh he flopped backwards onto his bed. Technically he didn't have the day off, but he simply couldn't bring himself to leave his rooms right now. Reaching up, and stretching his arms out so that it was almost painful he snagged Temmy off of his place on the ornamental rim of his headboard and curled up quietly around the stuffed representation of the rather large piece of himself he'd just left behind on a dragon preserve on earth. He hadn't allowed himself to cry in years, but in that moment he honestly didn't care. He felt the tears slid unchecked down his cheeks.

He wasn't fit for polite society right now, and he didn't think he would be for a long time to come. Right now all he wanted was to be astride his dragon as they flew. He wanted to feel the sleek sinuous body beneath him dive after a fish or a deer, snatching up his prey as they flew, or just to sit on Temeraire's arm and read by lantern light.

All that he'd ever truly wanted; he'd just left behind for nothing more then his duty and his love for his godson and his lover. He'd only been gone a short time but already he was worried about Temeraire. He knew the dragon could take care of himself, but he couldn't help remembering the small creature that had hatched on the deck of the Reliant Years ago.

~~~***~~~

Yozak sighed as he slipped into his lover's rooms, he'd come home about an hour ago to find a worried Yuri, and a furious Günter, in Gwendal's office trying to see if The other man had had any luck getting Conrart out of his rooms. Yuri had actually gone so far as to announce that Conrart was officially on leave until he felt ready to leave his rooms. Apparently he'd been in their since their return yesterday evening. Gwendal's attempt to get Conrad out of his room had been met with silence. Günter for all his yelling about heika and bad examples and duty had been met with the same less then acknowledging indifference. Actually Conrart had outright ignored him.

He had to admit he'd been a little surprised when Yuri pulled him aside and explained what had happed on earth. He completely understood why Conrart was taking things so hard.

Conrart was curled up on the bed wearing nothing but an old robe, Temmy was cradled in his arms. For a moment Conrart didn't even acknowledge him, but he was a patient man when he needed to be. Yozak settled himself down on the bed beside his lover and waited, gently rubbing the small of the other man's back.

It took a bit of time but finally Conrart uncurled himself and snuggled up against Yozak's side. For a while they sat in companionable silence, and then Conrart looked up at him and tentatively kissed his jaw, licking at his jaw line in a way he knew never failed to make him horny.

"Make me forget," Conrart whispered, "please make me forget."

Yozak looked at him, searching his eyes for answerers, and then he set the stuffed animal aside and carefully lowered Conrart to the bed. It only took him a moment to strip the robe from Conrad's beautiful body, Yozak rolled Conrad underneath his larger form and gently set about reminding Conrart just how much he loved and cherished him.

~~~***~~~

The Great one sighed, over a year had passed in Shin Makoku and while Lord Weller had done his duty admirably the only term that could really be applied to him now was depressed. In fact the only time the man seemed to truly be happy was when Yozak took pains to make him forget. It had gotten to the point that Yozak had actually gotten down on his knees and begged the king to grant Conrart leave to go, because he couldn't stand seeing him like this. But even Yuri and Yozak had been stumped by Conrad's refusal to leave his lover and his duty.

The Great One was currently wondering the dragon preserve in Japan – where only a month had passed since Yuri, Murata, and Lord Weller had left. He was incorporeal here, but still he had mostly seen what he needed to. The great Dragon Temeraire was still coiled on the banks of the river looking just as miserable as Conrart himself. In the past week that the great one had spent here the dragon had moved only long enough to get food or use the necessities, beyond that he hadn't moved.

Not even to get out of the pouring rain.

"You are both miserable without each other." He said finally, allowing the magnificent creature to see him. "Could you explain to me why?"

~~~***~~~

Temeraire started and looked at the ghost in front of him in mild surprise – then he did his best to explain. Who knew if this ghost was important or not.

~~~***~~~

The great one suppressed the urge to groan, it looked like he wasn't going to become caporal anytime soon. Not when he was about to expend the magic required to send a dragon to the Other world but it had to be done. The dragon was currently standing in the deepest part of the river though it hardly went up over his claws.

He closed his eyes and focused, it only took a minute but the magical drain was a nightmare, and he collapsed to the floor of his own temple after sending the dragon through to his world.

He needed a good long rest. Even for a god mowing a 48 ton reptile across worlds was taxing.

~~~***~~~

Temeraire glanced up in surprise as a skeleton flew by over head, craning his head around he followed the progress of the flying skeleton and the many odd creatures flying around that looked like an odd cross between a child's teddy bear and a bee. After a minute a scream drew his attention to the ground, and he only just had the time to whip his tail around to catch the now fainted woman before she could hit the floor. Carefully he lowered her to the floor and turned his head to try and find a way to free his foot from the small ornamental fountain it was currently stuck in.

He inclined his head gently to the men boiling out around the palace and tried to inform them that he was no danger to any of them but they didn't seem to understand a word he was saying. At least they didn't raise any weapons to him, so he was free to set about figuring out how to free his foot. After a moment a new man appeared on the scene his hair an odd shade of copper red, and after taking in the situation turned and snapped an order that at least had one word he recognized 'Conrart'.

He managed to pull his leg free just as another man bolted off.


	8. Chapter 8

Conrart Weller sighed, it was one of his now frequent days off and he was currently ensconced in his favorite leather arm chair deep within the palace archives, with an old leather bound, vellum tome in front of him. The book was one of the Nation's treasures. No one really knew where it had come from. They just knew that once it had belonged to Daikenja. The great tome was a compellation of every type of Dragon known to have inhabited their world before the time of the great one.

The soft sound of Gabriel shifting his position against the wall grated his nerves and he did his best not to snap at the man. Gabriel was only acting on Gwendal's orders. He was well aware of the fact that the majority of his family was worried about. Still it was aggravating to have the lot of them think him weak enough to actually commit suicide now that he'd actually found Temeraire. He had survived over 100 years without his dragon; he could go a little longer.

He smiled at the thought of the gift he'd had made for Temeraire. A net of pure gold wire to ornament Temeraire's beautiful black frill, set with diamonds and Sapphires. It had cost him a heavy sum, but it was worth it. He wanted to give his dear friend everything in this life that he had been unable to give him in his last.

Temeraire had crossed ocean's, fought in a war, left China and his newly found family and love behind, the Dragon had even flown into exile out of his love for his captain. For Laurence Temeraire had stayed in Australia and accepted the handling of an abusive captain for three long years, doing his best to comfort and protect Laurence, despite the man's urging him to fly away.

He was a prince now, and a Lord, he was going to spoil his Dragon this time – even if it meant doing it in the limited time he would have with his friend.

Yuri was planning a trip back to Earth in a few weeks, and while his king was planning to send him to Japan's Dragon Park at that time – he had to admit the wait was agonizing. The fact that his beloved dragon was sitting in what amounted to an amusement park, galled him to no end. Temeraire should have been treated with more respect than that.

The Door banged open with a startling clatter. He glanced up at the man who'd come barreling so disrespectfully into the library, suppressing the urge to snap at the man.

"Sir," the man wheezed, "Lieutenant Gurrier, sent me to tell you that – and I quote – 'your imagination is running amuck in the Courtyard' Sir!"

Conrart blinked, _it couldn't be. Could it? _ When they were younger Yozak – and everyone else - had referred to Temeraire as being a figment of his overactive imagination. _Yozak wouldn't joke about this. Would he? _Regardless he had to find out. He was on his feet and running through the palace halls before the man – Andrew, he thought his name may have been Andrew – had even had a chance to catch his breath.

He burst out the side door into the courtyard a few minutes later, breathing hard, and froze at the sight of the Enormous dragon standing in the courtyard, with one foot in the rubble of what used to be the ornamental fountain of King Yuri (holding a lemon and wearing 'pumpkin pants,' ) that Stoffel had had erected last year. _Well that should please Yuri at least, he hated that fountain. _He thought mildly, not even realizing that he was running until the soft click, click clicking of his boot heels on the cobblestone became a heavy drumming in his ears that pounded in time with his heartbeat.

"Temeraire," he cried when he was close enough.

His breath was coming in gasps, and to his horror he tripped on the cobblestone walk and pitched forward. He would have fallen if not for the sinuous tail that wrapped gently under him. Temeraire had caught him with the last few feet of his tail. The dragon was gentle when he lifted him, carefully depositing him on his feet like a mother with a clumsy toddler. He hugged that tail to his chest. "Temeraire," he breathed trying to reconcile the fact that his dragon was here. They were finally together again. He felt the tail lifting up, curving around his shoulder, holding him closer, and he clung to it even when he felt his feet leaving the ground.

"How did you get here?" he asked once Temeraire had set him down between his fore claws.

UDWUDW

Temeraire lowered his immense head and gently nuzzled Conrart, before responding. "Your Great One brought me here, so that we could be together." carefully he coiled his sinuous tail around his forelegs like a giant cat, blocking Conrart from any harm that might befall him should the armed men around them choose to attack them. "Oh Conrart, I'm so glad we are reunited, the last month was miserable!"

"Captain, are you alright in there?" the man with the oddly colored hair asked.

"I'm fine Yozak." Conrart called back, then added, "Temeraire would never hurt me."

UDWUDW

Gwendal sighed as he listened to Günter shriek. The King's advisor was less than happy about the fact that there was a dragon sleeping in the courtyard, and even less happy about the fact that Conrart was currently sleeping under the stars, using said dragon as a pillow. He was ranting about the dangers, and the legality of the matter. Gwendal had tried to remind him that while dragon's where protected under the law, he doubted that Dikenja's law about leaving Dragon's unmolested encompassed such an occurrence. The Dragon came from a different world, and as such he highly doubted that the law would apply to Temeraire. The Dragon who was currently refusing to let Conrart out of his sight for longer then it took for Conrart to relieve himself.

Not that Conrart currently seemed to mind.

UDWUDW

Yozak Gurrier stared out the window to the bedroom he normally shared with Conrart. It was raining out and water was falling from the sky in mighty sheets – and Conrart had yet to come in out of the rain. Even at this distance he could see the massive tarp draped form of Temeraire. He knew that somewhere tucked into that mass was the man he already saw as his spouse.

He shifted slightly wondering if Conrad meant to come in at all or if he deemed it necessary to prove his loyalty to the dragon by catching his death of pneumonia. It wouldn't be the first time he'd caught it in the last five years.

Still he worried.

Conrad was strong, but he was also loyal to a fault.

Did the man even have a blanket out there in the cold and wet?

Or was he simply sheltering beside the great reptile?

His decision made, Yozak rose to his feet and dug the heavy clear waterproof bag Yuri had given to Conrart so that he could accompany him to earth out from under the bed. Unzipping the thing carefully, he set it onto one of the chairs in the room and set about stripping the bed and bundling the bedding up before shoving it into the case. He then grabbed hold of one of the bed's smaller but still fluffy pillows and attempted to shove that into the clear plastic case. He had to sit on the thing to get it to close. After zipping the damned thing shut again he took it by the handle and after pulling on a waterproof coat – he left the room.

The least he could do was make sure Conrart was warm.

IF he could have he would have dragged the other man kicking and screaming back to his warm bed. However he didn't think the dragon would allow it. He didn't speak English, and his Japanese was less then useful. As such he had no way of communicating with Temeraire, save for using Conrart or King Yuri as an intermediary.

Conrart he knew – would never translate what he had to say to the dragon because it meant revealing his own weakness. He'd nearly died of pneumonia just a scant two months ago. His lungs had yet to fully recover, and Gisela had informed him that he could die if he caught it again this year.

Yet Conrart was sitting out in the rain with only a dragon to keep him warm and dry – it wasn't enough.

"Conrart?" The rest of the sentence that woke him was an unintelligible jumble of unfamiliar syllables. Temeraire lifted his head from where it was tucked under the shelter of one wing and the further comfort offered by the tent canvas his Captain had ordered stretched over him to keep the rain out. His captain was curled up on his foreleg sleeping soundly despite the shivers he could feel coursing through his body. Temeraire had tried to get Conrart to go inside to sleep, but Conrart had refused, wanting to stay close to him. The man with the odd hair gently patted his muzzle, said something in his nearly incomprehensible language and slipped past him headed towards his sleeping captain.

Temeraire was pleased to note that he understood a few scattered words in the tangle. Conrart had been teaching him his language for the past week, and while it appeared he had a long way to go, at least he was making progress.

The man set the clear case he was carrying down and reaching out gently shook Conrart's shoulder. Conrart awoke slowly, and Temeraire couldn't help noticing the way he blinked and looked around. "Yozak?" he whispered, and Temeraire realized the red head was his captain's lover. For a moment he was confused, he had expected 'Yozak' to be female – although he had to admit he had wondered at the name.

"But, Conrart," he said in surprise "he is male. Surely this cannot be the lover you mentioned."

Conrart gazed up at him. His heartbeat quickening, he looked and smelled distinctly uncomfortable. "It is not uncommon." He said after a second in English. Then almost uncertainly he added, "Men of the demon tribe are capable of getting pregnant- there is a ritual involved - so it does not matter if we wed each other or if we take a woman into our beds."

Temeraire bobbed his head in a gesture he'd learned over the long years living among humans. "I see, and when the time comes, will you sire my next captain so that I may stay in the family? Or will you bear one like Jane did for Exspidium?"

"Temeraire." Conrart yelped turning an interesting shade of red as he spoke. Yozak sent him a questioning look, and his captain said something in his native language that Temeraire only half understood and the other man roared with laughter.

The man gestured towards the case he'd been carrying and said something about 'cold'. Conrart made a soft indignant sound and replied in the same tangle of incomprehensible words. Temeraire couldn't help wondering how much longer it would be before he learned to speak the demon language. But then it had been less than a week since he'd gotten here.

"Gisela," "cold" and "die" where the only words Temeraire caught from Yozak's reply. He lowered his head, briefly extending and then flattening his frill. Keeping his muzzle level with his rider's lover's head, he demanded a full translation of what had sounded suspiciously like a threat.

Conrart sighed, "Yozak is berating me for not coming in out of the rain like I should have. I've thrown myself into my work a lot more than usual this past year. I've caught pneumonia twice, Yozak, was just reminding me of what Gisela said might happen if I caught it a third time this year."

Temeraire felt his frill snap up before he flattened it in distress, "you're staying with me is a danger to your life?" he asked then added. "Why didn't you go inside when it started to rain?"

"As I told Yozak I am fine and quite warm where I am. He needn't worry. Neither should you, Temeraire, I'm quite well."

While they'd been speaking Yozak had opened the case and had begun to pull out the bedding held within its confines. Temeraire cocked his head to the side as the man, draped the bedding over Conrart, enveloping his captain and his arm in the soft fluffy warmth of the thick comforter and sheets. Conrart said something that sounded like an inquiry. When Yozak answered his tone was light. He handed Conrart a pillow and made a hand gesture Temeraire didn't recognize. "Are you sure?" Conrart asked quietly.

"Quite." Yozak replied.

Conrart slid forward on his arm, clutching the pillow to his chest, and Yozak climbed up onto his leg behind his captain. Conrart handed Yozak the pillow and Yozak placed it between Temeraire's leg and his head, leaning back into his captain's customary spot. He wrapped his arms around Conrart as the smaller man leaned up against his chest using him as a pillow. Conrart pulled the blankets up around them both. "Good night Temeraire." He said after a moment and closed his eyes.

Temeraire felt the other man, Yozak; pat his arm with one hand. "Yes, good night Temeraire." He said before wrapping his arms around Conrart again and closing his eyes.

Idly Temeraire wondered if Lily had ever had her captain and Captain's mate cuddle on her arm, then dismissed it, before tucking his head back under the shelter of his wings, and lowering his head to the ground. He went back to sleep, and dreamed of flying through the sky with his captain again.

UDWUDWUDW

Yuri paused and blinked at the sight of Conrart walking down the halls of Covenant Castle with his arms full of what looked like every belt he owned. Then he smiled wondering just what the man was up to.

UDWUDWUDW

Conrart dumped his armload of belts at Temeraire's feet and tried to figure out the best way to jury-rig a harness out of the thin strips of leather. He was wearing one belt to which he'd sown two extra leather straps with a metal clip dangling from each, it was the closest he could come to the harnessing apparatus, he remembered from his dreams.

Temeraire lowered his head and looked at the belts with a critical eye. "Maybe if you lace them all together, you can make a collar out of them."

Conrart smiled, "that's what I was thinking." He said in his own tongue. In the week since Yozak had come and spent that rainy night curled up with him on Temeraire's foreleg, the great dragon had learned to speak his language as flawlessly as if he had been hatched in Shin Makoku.

He buckled the belts together to form a long strip then he handed one end to Temeraire, and climbing up into the dragon's clawed hand and waited while Temeraire put him aboard.

He scrambled across the dragon's shoulder and waited for Temeraire to hand him the other end of the improvised harness. Carefully he took the leather out of the dragon's talons and slipped the round ring links of his own belt around the leather before buckling the harness shut around Temeraire's neck, it fit a bit loosely like a dog's collar.

But at least it would hold for a short flight –

Hopefully.

Temeraire shook himself, then reared up and shook himself again; the movement jarred his every vertebrae, and flung him out of his spot, but the straps held. Cursing he pulled himself back up. He wasn't used to being on dragon back any more. He would have to work to ensure he regained all of what death and rebirth had stripped from him in terms of riding skills.

"All lies well." Temeraire said mildly, before asking "are you –quite – all right?"

Conrart was about to answer when he was interrupted by the duel screeching of Lords von Krist and von Voltaire.

Shifting his position he gazed down at his older brother and one time teacher from his lofty perch abord Temeraire's back.

"What the hell are you doing up there?" Gwendal demanded, "Get down here at once, before you break your foolish neck!"

Günter's protests on the other hand where nearly impossible to decipher. He got the gist of it but the actual wording escaped him. Although that was largly do to the fact that the man was having a bit of a melt down and as such he seemed to be tripping over the delicate art of articulation.

If Conrart hadn't known better he would have thought the other man drunk – he was tripping over his own tongue so badly.

Günter apparently wanted him 'off of the dragon', however, his several minute long speech was so badly garbled that the only words Conrart could even make heads or tails of was "off"… "Dragon"… "Thinking"… "Protected"… "Law" and "arrested." He then concluded his tirade with what Conrart could only assume was meant to be a reminder of the fact that he could be exiled or executed for daring to put a harness on a dragon – let alone riding one.

As soon as the words had left the hysterical man's mouth, he was silenced by a deafening roar from over head.

He must have put just a hint of the Divine wind behind the roar, because several small birds fell dead out of the sky.

Temeraire drew himself up to his full rather impressive height, his frill standing on end in a clear threat. Then he closed his frill with an audible snap, and lowered his head so that one immense, blue, eye was level with Günter's head. His jaws where slightly parted, revealing a mouth full of sharp, backwards curving, serrated, teeth - not a single one of them smaller than Conrart's hand. The sound issuing forth from between those jaws could only be described as a hiss – although it sounded more like cold water hitting white hot stone.

Gwendal and Günter both froze.

"Do not," Temeraire said at last, "Threaten my captain, in front of me."

He snorted, ruffling the long hair of the two members of his captive audience. Glancing around Conrart noticed that every man woman and child in the courtyard had stopped to watch. Temeraire's tongue flicked out of his mouth briefly as he tasted the air.

"I will have my Captain by me again, just as I will have a companion on my flights. He is mine, and if anything befalls my Conrart you will regret it. I must hunt." Temeraire paused briefly, before adding, "And Conrart must tell me what I can hunt."

That said he unfurled his giant fan like wings and flung himself into the air, with all the enthusiasm Conrart remembered from his dreams.


	9. Chapter 9

Lord Leonard Weller ran a hand through his mane of chestnut hair and smiled as he gazed out the window of von Karblenecoff castle at the man who was for all intents and purposes, his mother. Lord Conrart Weller – the lion of Lutenberg had given birth to him almost a century before. His Lord Father Lord Yozak Weller Gurrier stood sedately on the shores of the beach watching as Conrart sat atop the back of the large black dragon Temeraire currently frolicking in the water.

For his part Conrart was easily keeping hold of the beautiful bit of jewelry that dangled from around Temeraire's sleek neck. Ignoring the custom made leather saddle that the dragon still wore; proof that Temeraire had likely dived into the water immediately upon finishing his meal. It was going to take some work to get the salt out of the thing. And Leo found himself mildly amused with the notion. His mother had the habit of keeping all of his gear in what his father often jokingly referred to as parade condition.

Conrart had apparently spent quite a bit of his own money when he'd first had the thing commissioned. For a while he'd apparently toyed with the idea of a harness similar to the one Temeraire had worn in his dreams but had soon dismissed it as impractical as the great dragon had no need of a fighting crew. So instead he'd settled for a one man rig, designed to be more of a saddle then a harness.

Temeraire didn't seem to mind, and blue leather looked good against his black hide anyway.

Technically Conrart was supposed to be bathing his dragon, but at the moment they both seemed to be doing more in the way for frolicking then bathing.

It was rather cute to watch. Conrart Weller was a proud man and rarely unbent enough to play in front of anyone but his family. The fact that the man was out there frolicking like a boy in front of the great one and everyone else who might happen upon them was a sight to behold. Leonard couldn't help wondering what his mother had been like before the dragon had come into his life. His father had told him stories of the brave lion of Luttenburg, and had shown him the stuffed dragon toy 'Temmy' that still held a place of honor above his parent's bed.

Grinning to himself in a manner reminiscent of his father, Leonard set out for the shore, he'd always enjoyed helping His mother bathe and wipe down Temeraire. When he was a small child he'd briefly entertained the notion of inheriting the great dragon from his mother. Temeraire had once mentioned that on earth Dragons could often be inherited by the sons and daughters of their original captains. But over the years he'd come to realize that with the differences in lifespan the chances of his inheriting Temeraire where slim as his mother's dragon was not likely to outlive Conrart.

He reached the shore in time to see Conrart lose his grip on the heavy silver necklace the dragon wore and go tumbling end over end down the dragon's back to land with a splash in the water.

He didn't resurface.

After a moment Yozak bolted into the water with Leonard on his heels both concerned for the safety of a member of their family. Even Temeraire seemed alarmed. Then Abruptly Conrart simply popped up out of the water and deftly splashed the dragon in the face with water. He only had a second to gulp in air before he was pushed under by the tip of the dragon's massive tail.

He came up a moment later sputtering though highly amused.

"I think," Temeraire said calmly, "that it is time we got out." That said he lowered his great muzzle, and gently took the back of Conrart's Jacket between his teeth and lifted the man up and out of the water in much the same way a mother cat would pick up a kitten.

Leo glanced at his father both doing their level best to hide their mirth as Temeraire gently set the smaller man into his saddle, and turned to face them. He raised his wings and sank slightly lower in the water preparing to spring free of the ocean's churning waters when he was bathed in a soft blue glow.

"I believe you two have something left to finish." A voice spoke into the empty air before dragon and demon vanished from the lake.

Leo blinked and glanced over at his father. Yozak just sighed, "Looks like the great one is meddling again." He said mildly, and then added "Come Leonard, we should head home Your mother and Temeraire will undoubtedly find us there."

DODWDODWDODW

Only the open air received them, and Temeraire snapped open his wings in silent alarm, jarring the man seated in his saddle badly. Conrart pitched and would have fallen had he not designed the saddle with aerial maneuvers in mind. As it was he had to scramble to lock his carabineers into place.

"Temeraire," the man called in alarm, "where in the great one's name are we?"

"Dover." The dragon replied softly gazing out at the white cliffs that rose against the surf.

To his left a dragon bugled out a challenge and Temeraire pivoted around to face him, his own roar silenced at the sight of a massive red and gold dragon hanging in the air before him.

Temeraire Couldn't help his confusion, before him he could see his old friends rising up on the wing to meet him, but most alarming of all was the pure black dragon that flew with them.

"Temeraire," Conrart called, "What is wrong?"

Temeraire hovered for a moment but how could he explain this to his captain? How could he explain that they were now hovering directly in front of his old formation? How could he explain that the smaller black dragon was himself before the end of the Napoleonic war? How could he explain that this was the start of the last battle he and Laurence had ever flown for Brittan? How could he explain that despite everything they had done They had still tried to give him to another captain? Had still sent Laurence back to Australia? Had only sent him back again because Temeraire had made it clear – he would tear all of Brittan to the ground if they hurt his captain.

How could he explain it to the man who was his captain reborn?

Regardless he had to try.

Once he had explained he waited quietly for Conrart's response. Waited for the anger he was sure would come.

But it never did.

He shivered at the feeling of Conrart patting his neck. "I am with you always." The man said simply. "you are not alone."

That was all the reassurance Temeraire needed, taking in a breath he bugled out a response to his old friends.


	10. Chapter 10

Conrart leaned forward in his saddle and patted Temeraire's neck with one hand to get the dragon's attention. "Do you remember that book Yuri brought back from the library on his last visit? The one on temporal theory?" At the dragon's nod he continued. "I don't think you should tell them who you are. You are far to curious for your own good my dear and faced with the knowledge of what is to come, a younger you might try to change it and could end up damaging the Future."

Temeraire sighed, "You're right." He replied after a minutes hesitation. "Had I hatched to you what would you have called me?"

Conrart smiled, "I cannot say, my friend to me you have always been Temeraire even when I couldn't pronounce it. Besides in the interest of simplicity we should make sure it is something we can remember drunk on fatigue. Your name means rash or reckless in French according to the Great Sage, so perhaps we should simply use a word from my language that means the same?"

The Dragon considered it briefly before responding, "Maximus approaches, we haven't the time to contemplate them all, prey Conrart give me a name that I may introduce us."

"Hasshin," Conrart supplied after a second.

Temeraire inclined his head briefly and hovered in place as Nitidus winged up beside him. The little Pascal's Blue looked nervous, but he and his captain would never be laxed in their duty. He was briefly reminded of a time when he would have done anything for Brittan because Laurence had loved his country – now – well if not for his continued love of his first Captain he would sooner see the country reduced to the same state big Shimeron had been in less than a year ago after their stupid king had tried to kill his Conrart.

Conrart had been wholly appalled by the devastation he'd wrought in his rage. He'd made what Lien had done in the Battle of Shoeburyness to give Napoleon a chance to escape look like a hatchling's attempt at imitating the Divine wind. She may have created a huge wave which sank Admiral Nelson's entire Fleet, but _He hadn't left two stone's on top of each-other._ That idiot Balar was going to be too busy rebuilding for at least the next decade to even look beyond his borders.

Conrart's ankle – thankfully the only true injury he'd suffered beyond several abrasions and contusions (one of which had covered the entire left side of his face and the better part of his neck and arm) – had not yet finished healing.

He sighed and suppressed his rage, rage would make him stupid and he and Conrart couldn't afford that now. He was no longer Temeraire, that title belonged to the much younger him currently flying in formation, with a full crew compliment. No He was Hasshin and it was time to put the past behind him. Although he was very greatful Conrart had been interested in learning to speak not only Chinese, but Japanese, and Napoleonic English but a whole slew of others as well. In Conrart he'd finally found someone who shared his thirst for knowledge.

"I am Captain Micah Warren of his majesty's Aerial Corps, Captain to Nitidus. Who are you and what business do you have in England?"

Conrart sighed, and shifted in his saddle, but it was Hasshin who responded. "I am Hasshin, this is my Companion Lord Conrart Weller, second son of Queen Cecilia of Shin Makoku , and we are simply passing through."

Warren shifted slightly and Hasshin couldn't help noticing the odd looks Nitidus's Crew was giving to his harness, and his rider. Conrart he knew was likely unaffected by their staring. The Young demon had been and still was a prince in addition to a military officer; he was accustomed to eyes watching him. But Hasshin couldn't help feeling that they were judging his rider. He was well aware of the fact that Conrart's uniform was relatively plane. Conrart had once told him it made him harder to spot on the battlefield, and since Demon tribe leaders fought at the head of their armies it was wise not to stand out to much. There was nothing spectacular about his customary field uniform, but Hasshin couldn't help thinking that despite being sopping wet and shivering in his saddle, his Conrart's dignity was undiminished.

"With that introduction and given the status of things at the moment, the admirals will have to decide what to do with you and your beast." Warren said after a moment's silence.

Hasshin sighed, banked and slid into place behind his old formation, less than a minute later he was surrounded, Maximus on his left, Lily, Nitidus, Dulcia, Immortalis and Messoria, were ahead of him. Kulingile flanked him to the right and as odd as it sounded his own Younger self slid into place behind him.

Hasshin vaguely remembered being there. He remembered His curiosity at finding another Celestrial Dragon so far from China. He'd been curious about the other, obviously older dragon's Captain, and the odd harness he'd been sitting in. Now all he could do was shudder slightly and suppress the urge to moan. His Conrart was in danger, and he knew was going to be facing a few very difficult couple of days. His younger-self was concerned only with getting himself and Laurence back into Brittan's good graces, so that they could stay. Laurence himself was worried about the impending battles, and the appearance of a 'foreign dragon.'

It was odd in some ways his loyalties were strangely divided.

In some ways his loyalties still laid with Laurence his first Captain, but Conrart was his first captain reborn, and honestly he'd spent far more time in his company then he ever could in Laurence's. it was a simple fact that Laurence's life was so limited so fragile; while his Conrart would live at least another two centuries.

Laurence was his past and Conrart was his future, but sometimes it was hard to separate oneself from the emotions of the past.

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Admiral of the Air Jane Roland stood proudly in the Courtyard of Dover Convert, Chenery and Dulcia had flown back an hour ago ahead of the rest of their formation and informed her of the unusual situation. Another Chinese Celestrial dragon had been seen flying past the cliffs of Dover this afternoon by one of their patrols. When detained the Dragon's Captain had introduced himself as Lord Weller supposedly a prince of some far off land who was simply passing through. She couldn't help hoping they could draft the services of both the dragon and his handler, but it would have to be handled with the utmost care the last thing Britten needed was another angry Celestrial, or for that matter another angry nation on their doorstep.

At last the sound of beating wings heralded the arrival of Lily's formation and she stood quietly watching as each of the dragons came down. The first thing she noticed about the new arrival was his striking resemblance to Temeraire, he was larger though not by much, and appeared to outweigh him by a good bit though the difference in mass appeared to be muscle. She didn't know if the Dragon's handler was indeed a prince, but the finery adorning the Dragon made a good case for him at least being very wealthy. He wore a pendent identical to the one Laurence had given to Temeraire Years ago, and a net of fine gold chainmail set with precious gems adorned the great Dragon's Frill. There were other signs of wealth as well, more supple ones like the quality of the soft blue leather that made up the dragon's rig. Or the fact that it was died to almost the exact shade of the dragon's markings so that it harmonized beautifully. It was also tooled leather; it must have taken an age and a large sum of money to have that rig so eloquently and intricately embossed.

The Rider himself looked to be a bit disheveled, and it took her a minute to realize he was mostly wet, as if had taken a swim in a lake before being caught by her patrol, the leather of his rig she noticed was similarly wet. As she watched the young man unstrapped his legs from the Dragon's saddle and climbed down. His leg buckled about halfway down. For one horrifying moment Jane thought he would fall to his death from his own dragons back.

She shouldn't have worried.

The dragon handled his rider.

Catching him easily with his long tail and lowering him to the ground, she heard the oddly familiar, deep, resonant voice spoke from above her.

"Are you alright Conrart?" The Dragon asked as he lowered his great head.

The man steadied himself against the Dragon's tail as he replied. "I'm fine thank you Hasshin," in a mild voice.

"You should brace that ankle." Hasshin replied.

Conrart smiled at his dragon and straitened his clothing before stepping away. "I will as soon as I get the chance, but thank you for your concern." Then he slipped into a language she couldn't understand.

"Come with me." Jane said firmly as soon as the man had stopped talking to his dragon.

The man turned his attention toward her and she more then expected the usual male posturing and puffery at being ordered about by a female. However it never came, the man simply inclined his head politely and followed her without a word of protest. Which was wholly refreshing, she didn't expect it last once they were in private and he figured out she was female.

She watched him as she ushered him into her office wondering just how long it would be before he realized her gender. After a moment she decided he was either unobservant or uninterested in how a woman had achieved military rank.

After a minute she introduced herself and waited for his reaction.

It wasn't what she expected.

UDWUDWUDW

In some ways it was odd he remembered Jane Roland from his dreams of the time when he'd originally been William Laurence, but she looked completely different when viewed through the eyes and experiences of Conrart Weller. Idly he wondered what the formidable woman thought of him. In many ways they were the same. When people saw her, the first thing they saw was her gender, not the experienced military officer, when his own people saw him many still saw his tainted human blood first. He had earned the title the lion of Luttenberg more than a century ago and yet people still saw his blood first.

He didn't really know what he saw when he saw her.

She was strong and confident, her blond hair going gray, but there was still a sharpness in her scared face, that reminded him of what Laurence had seen in her all those years ago. It was official; this was going to be weird!

He inclined his head politely and introduced himself formally as soon as she had finished introducing herself. He couldn't help being slightly amused at the odd look on her face at the perceived strangeness of his name. He was well aware of the fact that it sounded almost Germanic. After a moment's thought he added "You may call me Conrad if you wish, it is closer to English and easier to pronounce."

Jane actually smiled at him and then quite deliberately said his first name properly, before addressing him as 'Weller'. He forced himself not to laugh.

UDWUDWUDW

Conrart sighed as he walked through the halls of the Convert, on his way to the courtyard to see his dragon, Hasshin he'd have to remember to call Temeraire, Hasshin. It would be disastrous if he slipped up. Admiral Roland wanted him and 'Hasshin' to fight alongside the British forces against Napoleon. He hadn't committed himself one way or another as of yet, and honestly didn't intend to. What he needed to do now was find a way to get them both home, before they screwed up the timeline or something equally cosmically devastating. In order to do that he needed to sit down and plan out a course of action with the only living entity on earth that was currently older then he was.

Idly he wondered what the Great One expected them to accomplish here.

He was most of the way down a flight of stairs when his ankle decided to give out again – he really was going to have to brace it, or risk breaking his neck. Horrified at the prospect of falling down a flight of stairs and never getting home to his mate and son, he flailed almost wildly trying to get a grip on the unforgiving stone wall.

"Careful," a deep voice said as a strong hand clamped down on his bicep, steadying him.

Conrart recognized Matthew Berkley's voice before he even turned his head; thankfully he remembered not to address the man as if they'd already met. "Thank you, for your help." He replied mildly. "I'm Conrart Weller, companion to the Dragon Hasshin."

"Matthew Berkley, Maximus's Captain. You should get that leg looked at before it get you killed." Berkley Replied.

Conrart couldn't help smiling, the man was just as he remembered him, heavy set, red faced and curiously coatless, without his necktie. He wondered would he to be able to call the man a friend? It was odd but in some ways the man reminded him of Yozak with his free speech and less then proper behavior, but Yozak was by far the more brazen.

He missed his Husband and son already. Yozak constantly teased him about that weak ankle. The Lion of Luttenburg disabled by a human and a crushed ankle. It had taken all of Gisela's skill and a lot of tender love and care from his husband to return the use of his leg. However it was still weak and stressing the joint too much could be further damaging. Yozak wrapped it for him every night after rubbing a salve meant to help with the nerve damage into his heel and ankle.

He could have done it himself – but Yozak had always insisted on applying it.

He had both the salve and the brace he normally wore in his bags strapped to Temeraire's saddle, so at least he could look after his own needs, but still he knew he would miss Yozak's touch that night and the comfort of the other man's embrace.

"I have a brace in my packs, my-" he stopped short remembering the things he'd learned about this era in earth's history and comparing them to the odds and ends he remembered from his dreams. "Wife" he amended after realizing that admitting to the fact that he was routinely bedded by another man was likely to get him killed here. "Saw to it that I packed it before Hasshin and I arrived here rather unexpectedly."

Berkley nodded, "Your Hasshin has an odd harness, looks more like a saddle really. Do your people only ride one to a dragon regardless of its size and weight category?" he asked as he pulled Conrart's arm over his shoulders. "Lean on me Weller, we'll get you down the stairs safely so you can brace that leg."

"My thanks Berkley," Conrart replied, "and no we don't ride one to a harness regardless of the Dragon's weight and size. For the most part we don't really ride dragons. In my culture they are protected. I am the first person to actually ride a dragon in 4100 years."

Berkley blinked, "that is a long time, your Aerial Corps must be a mess after so long with all your dragons permanently banished to the breeding grounds. However did you manage to get them to resurrect it?"

"We don't have an Aerial Corps, Hasshin chose me, and came looking for me to be his companion, as such I am the only 'dragon rider'. It was simply easier to have me on his back telling him what he can't eat then it is to have a hungry dragon flying about the capital city."


	11. Chapter 11

Temeraire glanced over at the other Celestial – he was perhaps a bit larger than most of the other Celestials he'd seen. Certainly he was more muscular. Hasshin lounged not too far away from him, his odd rig standing out against his hide in a beautiful harmony with his eyes and markings. The leather – Temeraire couldn't help noticing – was unlike any he'd ever seen before. The workmanship was superb the straps were thin and streamline and molded so that they looked very much like vines of ivy. And the tooling was well …delicate; there could be no other word for it. The carabineer hooks he noted were made of an odd metal that flashed several different colors as the dragon moved. They looked like small circular rainbows.

He noted the finery that decorated the other dragon's ruff, and felt a hint of longing for the days before he'd talked his own Laurence into saving the dragons of France from the English - the direct results being their banishment to Australia and the loss of Laurence's capital. While it was true that there time in Australia had not at first been too bad, Rankin and Ceaser had of late been beginning to make things rather unbearable. Rakin – the abusive scrub – had taken over their small Convert and things had digressed from there. The man seemed to see Laurence as nothing more than a convenient bargaining chip to be used to endear him in the eyes of the haplessly idiotic new governor that England had sent to Australia. The end result was that Rankin frequently given his captain less food then a marlin could subsist upon and frequently had the man doing hard manual labors. Temeraire often found himself sharing a portion of his own dinner with his captain – not that it was any burden the man didn't need much to begin with.

Hasshin shifted slightly as Laurence came down into the clearing. "Laurence," Temeraire said calmly as the man walked over to him. He lowered his head to his Laurence and leaned into his Captain's hand as the man stroked his cheek. He knew that the man was worried, Rankin was making their live hell in Australia and Ceasar - the upstart little runt - was becoming a royal pain. Particularly since Rankin had decided to change some of the ways a convert was run. The most notable being that the Dragon with the highest ranked Captain ate first and ate heavily. Ceasar took every chance to lord it over the few dragons in their Convert.

Temeraire shifted his wings, when Laurence said, "You must be curious, there must be so much you could learn from another Celestial."

"He is … interesting. His harness is unlike any I've ever seen." He replied.

Laurence opened his mouth to respond but Berkley entered the clearing, easily supporting Hasshin's smaller Captain.

"Conrart," Hasshin enquired at the sight of his rider. "Are you quite alright?"

The man offered his dragon a smile, "I'm fine my dear, I simply need to brace this ankle."

Hasshin said something in a language Temeraire had never heard before. Conrart's tone was long suffering – as if they'd had this argument many times before. Hasshin flattened his ruff briefly, and then made a noise that sounded like water hitting white hot stone. It was a noise Temeraire had never heard another Celestial make.

The other Celestial turned his head toward a group of young cadets that were running across the grounds. "Prey excuse me Young Ones, but would one of you be so kind as to fetch something for my Companion?"

"Hasshin," The other dragon's captain said a little sharply, his cheeks flushing.

"I will not have you fall to your death because you are too stubborn to except help." Hasshin replied firmly before turning his attention back to the cadets. "Would one of you be kind enough to climb up and bring down my companion's bag?"

The children swarmed Hasshin, clambering up his strange harness and came back down with his packs. Conrart chuckled though he was a bit red and kindly thanked the children for their help when they gravely presented him with his packs.

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Conrart sighed as the children ran off again and shook his head slightly as he limped with Berkley's help over to Hasshin and settled himself down onto the great dragon's foreleg. He pulled off his boots and set it down upon the ground before digging through his pack in search of his ankle brace. It didn't take him long to find the metal braced, toe and heelless, molded leather ankle boot. He pulled off his still damp socks and traded them for a fresh dry pair before pulling on his left boot. That done he set himself to the task of unlacing his ankle brace – at least enough that he could slide his foot into place.

The brace was one of the few inventions of Annisina's that actually did what it had been invented to do. She'd made him two, the one he was currently wearing had been designed for him to use post injury until the break had a chance to finish healing and the ankle could better tolerate the task of bearing his weight. At first he'd had to wear it at all times, even to sleep. The only times it had come off was when he bathed and before he went to bed when Yozak rubbed healing salves into the abused flesh and cradled him in his arms when he'd cried from the pain. He'd gotten the second softer brace only a month ago, Gisela had ordered him to spend an hour or two a day without any brace at all.

She'd ordered him to spend an hour swimming in an attempt to recover the strength in the limb without straining it too much. Then he was supposed to put his brace back on. For now he only slept in the softer brace, which had been reinforced so that when the time came, he'd have free movement of his foot but be spared the risk and embarrassment of having his ankle roll either in or out. Gisela had assured him that within the next year or two all he would need was the softer brace.

Slowly he rose to his feet after he pulled his other boot back on. He sighed and inclined his head in thanks to Berkley, "thank you for the help." He said softly, his English gently accented.

"Hasshin," he said mildly in his own language. "We must speak."

The great dragon lowered his head so they could talk face to face, and he petted the great muzzle more to comfort himself then his beloved Temeraire. "How long will it take your younger self to lean Mazoku?" he enquired after a second.

Temeraire sighed, and his hot breath ruffled Conrart's hair. He silently reminded himself that it was important to remember that for now at least the great dragon could not be Temeraire. He had to remember that he was Hasshin now.

"I, Conrart, I do not believe we will have very long before he starts to learn our language. We will have to use it only when we need to whenever my younger self is in earshot."

Conrart nodded, "Shinou sent us here, and said we had a task to complete. Though I have little idea what that could possibly be."

Hasshin sighed, "I cannot say what that task is either." He replied in a tone that Conrart had learned meant it was more likely he wouldn't say.

Conrart ignored the unavoidable implications, personally he had few memories from this time in Laurence's life, but it was likely something that Hasshin remembered vividly. "Admiral Roland has requested that we aid Britten in their war against Napoleon." He said softly in English.

Hasshin tilted his head slightly and Conrart stroked his cheek softly, "What answer have you given?" he replied in the same language.

"I have not," Conrart replied mildly. "I will not commit you to a war that is not yours to fight without first consulting you. Shin Makoku is not involved in this dispute, and will not be pulled into it regardless of my participation. I leave the final decision to you."

"I think we have no choice but to help." Hasshin replied slowly, and then added in the Mazoku tongue. "We fought in it before, we cannot risk changing things. Much as I may wish to change the fate of the past I cannot risk the present.

KKMTKKMTKKMT

Laurence sighed, he was glad to be back from Australia but he was tired of all the fighting. Truth be told he wanted out. If he could just settle down somewhere else, just him and his beloved Temeraire, forget the war, and live a simple life – he would.

He was well aware of the fact that the only reason he was here was because Brittan could not afford to be without its only Celestial. Now that Lord Weller was here with Hesshin he didn't know what would happen to him and Temeraire.

The Young man was interesting though, he cared himself like any high ranked man of the military, but were most high ranked officers carried themselves with pride and arrogance, this young man carried himself with dignity and an oddly quiet self-assurance. It was hard to imagine him as anything other then what his dragon claimed he was despite his quiet dignity.

But he had to wonder, just what a foreign prince was doing in Brittan and why in the hell couldn't the man use a gun?

He nodded to the servant when she brought him his meal and struck up a conversation with Berkley, Harcourt and Granby. There weren't many Aviators who would even speak to him anymore so he enjoyed the company and conversation where he could get it.

Weller wandered into the dining room then, if his ankle was troubling him the man gave no indication of it. He glanced around the room before making his way over to the table and quietly enquiring after where he could go to serve himself some food.

"You want to serve yourself?" Harcourt asked incredulously.

Weller raised an eyebrow, "why wouldn't I serve myself?" he asked curiously.

Harcourt gaped at him for a moment along with the rest of the Captains who'd been present when he and his dragon had come in that very morning. "Your Hesshin introduced you as a prince," she said softly after a moment. "I thought -"

Lord Weller laughed, "You assumed I've never seen to my own needs?" he asked gently. "An understandable assumption, given my rank. My father loved to travel however, and he preferred to do it without the …'pomp and circumstance' of my mother's rank. He saw to it that I knew how to take care of myself."

Laurence smiled slightly at the young man, noting and not for the first time the sword at his hip. The young man moved as if he didn't notice its weights, as if the sword was a part of him. "The cooks serve us here." He said softly.

The Young man nodded and took the only open seat next to Berkley.

Harcourt smiled a slight flush on her face, as the food was served. "So Weller, how did you come to be Captain to Hesshin?" she enquired.

Conrart smiled, "My Godson wished to see the Dragon Preserve, so I went with him and Murata, and Hesshin simply dropped out of the sky on us – we have been inseparable since."

Soon after their talk turned to family, dragons and crew.

Conrart cursed as his shot went wide. He'd been the subject of several incredulous stares when he'd admitted he'd never even held a gun before. He hadn't bothered trying to explain the fact that his culture didn't have guns at all. His culture was one of honor and of the sword –

And he liked it just fine that way, thank you very much!

His people had no use for guns when their Demonic gifts would serve them well in their own territory and the human's were convinced that the best way to handle Demons was with Esserteric stones and magic so neither race was likely to ever develop the things anyway.

Still he did wish he'd learned at least a little bit about them during his time on Earth, then at least he wouldn't be in the truly awkward situation of having his previous self (Laurence) getting frustrated with his lack of progress.

Frankly he thought he was lucky he hadn't shot himself by accident yet.

He was fairly certain Laurence would agree with that assessment, seeing how the man had not let him even touch the gun until he could name every part of the gun and had seen fit to instruct him on the loading and cleaning of the weapon before he'd taught him how to fire it. Not that he could blame the man he tended to teach his own students how to care for their sword long before he let them handle a live blade.

Still this was an exercise in embarrassment he could have done without.

"Again," Laurence said firmly, "and this time keep both eyes open when you aim."

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A.N

So there you have it another chapter, sorry it took so long to come out but I've had a horrid case of writer's block and this still has not turned out the way I want it.


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